


Miraculous Obscurus

by FMB



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Eventual Relationships, Father Figure Percival Graves, Gellert Grindelwald Never Impersonated Percival Graves, Happy Credence Barebone, M/M, Miraculous Ladybug AU, Newt is a Dork, Oblivious Newt, Obscurial Credence Barebone, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Professor Original Graves, Protective Credence Barebone, Protective Original Percival Graves, Rating May Change, Short Chapters, Shy Newt, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Student Credence, Student Newt, Student Theseus, Trying for one chapter a day but who knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 109,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9799286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FMB/pseuds/FMB
Summary: Fantastic Beasts meets Miraculous Ladybug.Follow Credence Barebone as he juggles his superhero persona as the Obscurus and his day-to-day student life. Can he and his superhero ally Animagus defeat the infamous Grindelwald? Does Percival Graves really know nothing about Credence's 'after school activities'? Can Theseus' home-schooled little brother help Credence pass his classes in the meantime? Can I actually finish a fic for once in my life?





	1. Prologue

Outside of the window from the second floor of Ilvermorny Private School, the day was pleasant and bright. The sun hung high in the sky, the clouds thick and fluffy and white, and the sky a pure blue from where it peeked through. From his desk at the back of the class and right next to the large and slightly dirty window, Credence had the perfect view of the city as it bustled with life. Cars drove along the small street just below, pausing at the intersection in intervals. A flock of pigeons battled one another for a spot on the largest tree in the park across the street. People were walking by on the sidewalks languidly, chatting amiably and laughing. Credence smiled faintly, daydreaming himself walking along with them without a care in the world, calm and content and not looking over his shoulder at every turn. What life could be if he were just an ordinary man with ordinary friends.

“Mr. Barebone,” Came a strict voice from the front of the class, louder than before, and Credence startled upright, scrambling to look like he had been paying attention. When the other students in the room began to laugh, he knew he hardly passed.

“Y-yes, Professor G-Graves?” He stammered out anyways, his heart racing and his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. The laughter died down to subdued giggling while Professor Graves surveyed his daydreamer student.

“I realize the suicide of Ophelia may not be of any interest to you and your imagination, but could you at least pay attention to the lecture?” Professor Graves demanded, holding his copy of _Hamlet_ aloft in one hand. Credence cleared his throat and nodded, looking down at his book with a shameful grimace. He didn't even know what page they were on...

With a sigh, Professor Graves turned back to his book and looked over the page, picking up right where he left off with a flourish, enrapturing his students once again in the story. He was a fantastic reader, his voice deep and passionate, emotions falling from each word as easily as he spoke them. Every student was reeled in by the story, every student except one.

With his head still ducked towards the book, Credence dared to sneak another peek out the window, trying his best to do so out of the corner of his eye. In the park, there was a man pushing around a cart no doubt filled with ice cream and popsicles. Credence thought of his little sister, Modesty, and her utter delight if he bought one for her. He could already see her red-stained lips and hands, reaching out to him and begging for another, and he knew he would give in eventually. Chastity would be sitting on the bench, pretending to be annoyed at being dragged out to the park once again, but Credence would catch her fighting back a smile every once-in-a-while, and he would know that she really did enjoy being with them most days.

Credence would hold Modesty's hand as they strolled further in the park, Chastity following behind with her arms crossed and a sparkle in her eye. They would go to the playground so Credence could push Modesty on the swings, and Chastity would pretend to be on her phone when she really just wanted to sit on the other swing, pushing herself back and forth. Modesty would throw her head back in laughter when Credence pushed her up, and she would cry out in delight, “Higher, Credence! Push me higher!”

A hand on his arm shook Credence out of yet another daydream, and he jerked around to find the student sitting to his left looking back at him with wide, worried green eyes. Another round of poorly hidden laughter made Credence look forward, and he realized Graves was staring at him with his arms crossed, obviously waiting for _something._

“Uh...” Credence breathed, his heart sinking even as he sat up straighter. He cleared his throat a few times, then asked nervously, “I'm s-sorry, what?”

“It is your turn to read, Credence.” Professor Graves said with a sigh, and Credence knew he was in trouble, “Surely you know where we left off?”

He looked down at his book in a panic, wishing the words would just peel themselves off the page and show him the answer. He picked up his own book, licked his suddenly dry lips, and began thumbing through the pages.

“ _Psst!”_ Came from his left, startling Credence to look over. The student beside him, a handsome young man with an athletic build who probably had better things to do than ever speak to Credence. And yet the student was lifting his own book, discretely, pointing with his finger to the page number they were on, followed immediately by which paragraph Credence needed to start from.

A wave of relief ran over Credence like warm water, and he hurried to the page and paragraph, even while Professor Graves sighed and remarked coldly, “Theseus Scamander!”

“I wasn't doing anything!” He argued immediately, holding up both of his hands in defense.

“While I appreciate your dedication to your fellow classmates, it would do Credence well to actually _listen_ in class,” Professor Graves scolded, and Credence flushed even more. The others laughed again, and Credence wondered if he could possibly hide himself in the very book he held.

It was only ever with Professor Graves did Credence stick out like a sore thumb. Every other class he had, he practically blended in with the wall. He was just another student in another seat, not the main target to be called out on. As the laughter died down once more, Graves let out a heavy sigh and regarded Credence one last time before shaking his head, “Nevermind. Mr. Barebone, you are to see me after class.”

The classroom filled with the jeering, teasing voices of his classmates. Credence sighed and set his book down again, holding his head in his hands and squeezing his eyes shut, just wishing he was home already. That same hand landed on his arm, and he glanced towards Theseus who was offering him an apologetic frown. Not wanting his pity, Credence pulled away from him and crossed his arms instead, sinking low in his seat.

Professor Graves picked the story back up, only getting half a page further before the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. As the students began gathering their things and getting up from their desks, Professor Graves called out their homework, reminding them that they had an essay due at the end of the week that was absolutely required if they planned to pass his class—as was every piece of homework he gave out.

Credence waited in his seat, staring morosely at his aged and worn desk as the students cleared out. Theseus lingered behind for only a few moments before some girl came to him and tugged him away by the arm, reminding him about some sort of promise he made her. Credence peered up to watch him exit through the door, and a few seconds later, he, too, stood and made for the front of the class.

Professor Graves waited for him, leaning against his desk with _Hamlet_ lying shut behind him and his arms gripping the stained wood. He emitted an air of superiority this close, his gaze heavy and judgmental. Credence could feel the collar of his stark white dress shirt growing tight, but he didn't tug at it. He only cleared his throat and tried to look anywhere but at Professor Graves, fiddling with the golden button on his burgundy overcoat—the school colors.

“Mr. Barebone...” Professor Graves began, and Credence couldn't help but hunch his shoulders even more, trying to shrink down to the insignificant pest he felt like. He could handle all the yelling and screaming and shouting from his mother, but even at the barest hint of disappointment in Professor Graves' voice was enough to make Credence want to cry like a child. He knew there was no way he could weasel out of this one, he just hoped Professor Graves wouldn't find it necessary to make another house call.

“I-I'm sorry for daydreaming, sir,” Credence whispered, his hands trembling so much that he squeezed them into fists in an attempt to stop them, “I promise I won't do it again... I-I just didn't get a lot of... a lot of sleep...”

Professor Graves crossed his arms and let his head tilt to the side, obviously not buying Credence's excuse. Still, he had to try.

“I promise I'll pay better attention, sir... I'll get more sleep, I'll--”

“Credence,” Graves interrupted, standing up straight and walking towards the student, who attempted to back away only to bump into the desk behind him. Arms still crossed, Professor Graves looked at Credence, his black eyes hard and curious, “Every day, it's a different excuse with you.”

“I'm sor--” Credence tried to apologize again, but Professor Graves interrupted him with a silent tap of his fingers against his lips and the slightest shake of his head.

“To be honest, Mr. Barebone... I'm beginning to worry for you. You tell me you aren't sleeping well, you tell me you forgot your lunch, you show up to school late almost every other day, and don't think I haven't noticed the bruises.” Professor Graves listed off, finishing with a brief gesture at Credence's face, and the boy jerkily covered the fading bruise on his cheekbone with a hand, as if he could just make Graves forget about it. “With each passing day, you look more and more gaunt. I'm left to wonder if you even eat when you get home.” A pause, a breath, and then, gently, “Please, Credence... Be honest with me... Are you... Do you feel safe at home?”

Startled stiff, Credence looked at Graves with wide eyes and blurted out a surprised, “Excuse me, sir?”

“What I mean to say is...” Graves huffed and ran a hand over his hair, never through it, and it looked like he was struggling with what he wanted to say just as much as Credence struggled to believe it, “Look, I know about your... situation. I know you and your siblings were adopted. I know being adopted, especially at the age you were at, could be hard, but... But if your guardian is hurting you, you don't have to suffer silently.”

Credence would have laughed if he had the emotional capacity to. It was so out of left field that Credence found himself incapable of answering, and it seemed like his silence only supported Graves' theory.

The Professor took a short breath, then gently set one of his hands on Credence's shoulder, squeezing in what he hoped was reassuring before he began to say, “Credence... you can always talk to me.”

However, he didn't get even two words out before a shadow shot by the window, eclipsing the room for only a few seconds. Both Credence and Professor Graves twisted their heads towards the window, managing to catch the sight of a _car_ doing flips as it was thrown, eclipsing the room once again, and followed by a loud, metallic crunch when it hit the ground.

Credence's hand shot to the pendant hidden under his dress code compliant shirt instinctively. Both he and Professor Graves took a step away from the window, and then turned towards one another and said together, “I have to go.”

They both paused, Professor Graves' eyebrows furrowing as he looked Credence up and down, but the student only ducked his head and explained, “My sisters, they're at home alone. I need to make sure they're okay.”

“I understand...” Professor Graves whispered, though the expression on his face belied his doubt, “Be safe, Credence.”

“I will, sir.” Credence promised, swinging his backpack over his shoulders as he rushed towards the door, only to stop and turn back around, calling out, “Oh, er... you—you too, Professor.”

Professor Graves gave a curt nod, and Credence exited the classroom and hurried down the hall. However, instead of taking the stairs down, he ran to the nearest boy's bathroom and burst in. Shoving open each stall to make sure he was alone, Credence locked the door and tugged open the small pocket of his backpack, whispering in a low voice, “Hallow! Wake up!”

A wisp curled from the pocket, black like wood smoke and twisting about in a sentient way, only to be sucked into a shape of a strange, blurry creature almost the size of Credence's palm.

“There's another one in town!” Credence explained quickly, zipping up his backpack and hiding it behind one of the toilets, Hallow following him closely, “We need to go, now!”

Hallow twisted about cheerily, seemingly in agreement, so Credence tugged the pendant out from under his collar, the silver shape of a bisected circle within a triangle glinting in the fluorescent lights, hanging from the end of a black twine string. Hallow spun around the pendant affectionately.

“Hallow,” Credence bid, catching the creature's attention, “Transform me!”

The pendant glowed with power and Hallow was sucked into the center of it. Credence let out a gasp as he felt Hallow's power swell within him, and with the magic of the pendant, Credence began to change. Running his hands over his eyes, over his head and neck, then throwing them out to his sides, Credence was enveloped in a shadowy hooded shawl, the ends evaporating into endless smoke that brushed along his leather booted ankles. His black pants were tight, but comfortable, the belt at his hip holding many little devices and trinkets, and his long-sleeved black turtleneck soft and flexible, but tough all the same. His skin had grown almost a ghostly white, in stark contrast of the midnight black mask over his eyes, eyes that had gone completely white, with no iris or pupil to speak of.

Credence had entered the boy's bathroom at Ilvermorny Private School, but it was _Obscurus_ that burst out of the door in a plume of smoke, leaping first onto the railing, and then jumping down to the first floor. He vanished out of the front doors to the school only moments after, entering yet another scene of destruction and chaos.

After all, it was just another Tuesday.

 


	2. Chapter 1: A Rocky Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where we discover the similarities and differences between Miraculous Ladybug and this fic. Unfortunately, I didn't want to keep everything exactly the same! Please allow me just a bit of wiggle room!

Obscurus arrived at the scene, his smoky, wispy form a delight to behold. Animagus was currently circling in the air in the shape of a beautiful, glittering gold thunderbird, giant and glorious and extremely noticeable. Down below, an infected individual of Grindelwald's _Imperius_ rampaged through the streets of Manhattan, a guttural roar coming from their gaping mouth. Their body had twisted and transformed into that of a golem, all grey stone and anger issues. The creature picked up and tossed another parked car, its alarm only adding to the cacophony of screams from the citizens around.

Now that his partner was here, Animagus thought it was time to prepare for battle. Swooping down in a beautiful arc, Animagus aimed straight for Obscurus, and just as they were about to collide, he summoned his power and changed, landing beside the young man on his two very human—and very boring—feet. As he stood straight, tossing back his rust-red bangs with a flick of his hand, Animagus gave Obscurus the run down.

“Luckily, this only just started. Unluckily, it looks like it's quickly getting out of hand.” He said in an airy sort of tone as if they were talking about the weather—which they may as well have been. Talking strategy and enemies was just small talk between them nowadays.

“Any idea where the Imperius is stored?” Obscurus asked, already taking the lead like always. Animagus cared little for it. He was much better at behind-the-scenes work than being in the spotlight. He could only imagine what Obscurus was like normally. He was probably an outspoken young man with plenty of friends and a girlfriend hanging off his arm. The spike of jealousy that shot through Animagus' chest was just as shocking as the realization that he had been staring dumbly at him for much too long now.

 _Drat_. Couldn't even be cool and confident as a superhero. How could he ever live up to be someone like Obscurus?

Getting back on topic, Animagus declared sullenly, “Not the slightest clue. There isn't a thing on him--that I can see, at least..” He briefly recalled one particular enemy from a few weeks ago where Newt had accidentally been swallowed and found the Imperius buried deep in the victim's gut.

As if seeing what Animagus was thinking about, Obscurus offered him a wry smile and reassured him, “Don't worry, I told you if one of us has to get eaten again, I'll make sure it's me.”

“Very comforting,” Animagus huffed humorously. Their attention snapped back to the enemy at hand when the golem released another bone-rattling roar, followed closely after by a torn up tree flying towards the heroes.

Animagus leapt into the air, taking on the form of a small billywig, a fat-looking insect with wings that spun like a propeller. Obscurus burst into a wall of smoke, the tree passing through him without even touching him. As soon as he reformed, Newt zipped off towards the golem, hoping to get some sort of hint on where the Imperius might be.

Static crackled through their earpieces, magically supplied by their Miraculouses—the jewelry they wore that stored their magical partners known as kwami and gave them their abilities—and Obscurus slowly strode forward, keeping his eyes on the golem as he threw his giant, rocky arms around, trying to swat the buzzing Animagus away. As soon as the earpieces connected, a deep, soothing voice came through.

“Good afternoon, my boys,” The Director greeted, his voice tinny as it transmitted through. “Looks like we have another situation on our hands, doesn't it?”

“Animagus is certainly _bugged_ out, Director.” Obscurus cracked, touching his earpiece to allow his voice to be transmitted to both The Director and Animagus, “Looks like we're caught between a _rock_ and a hard place. Can't tell if he's angry past his _stone-cold_ expression.”

Animagus popped back into human form just in time to land on the golem's shoulder, stretched around the back of its neck like a human scarf, and he howled in delighted laughter at the puns. Meanwhile, The Director only cleared his throat.

“Enough with the jokes, my boys, there is an entire city to protect. I already see our friend has redecorated the park...” The Director mentioned. Obscurus watched in mild fascination as the golem whipped about, trying to buck Animagus off of his shoulders, but the wild-spirited man held on tight, shouting aloud as if he were riding a mechanical bull.

“Not sure if Feng Shui was on this guy's mind, Director!” Animagus called through his earpiece, Obscurus grimacing at the feedback he got, “I mean, really, that uprooted tree _hardly_ matches those smashed cars!” The golem jumped into the air, making Animagus shout as he bounced hard against his shoulders. Desperately, Animagus called out to Obscurus, “Um... A little help?”

Obscurus immediately ran forward, only taking three paces before he leapt and burst into smoke. He zipped through the air, darting around in unpredictable turns before he reached the enraged golem. The enemy roared and flailed, making Animagus yell as he was tossed about, but Obscurus merely spun around the golem's head, allowing two of his arms to rematerialize so that he could scoop up Animagus' lanky form and carry him to safety.

Being up close and personal gave Obscurus the perfect vantage point, however, and the moment he set Animagus on the ground, he faded back into his human form and announced, “I saw it! I saw the Imperius!”

“What? Where?” Animagus blurted excitedly, still holding onto Obscurus' neck with both arms, looking into his ghost-white eyes with a smile.

“Incoming!” The Director cut in, followed immediately by Newt gasping and pointing behind Obscurus.

“Car!” He cried. Obscurus picked Animagus back up and shot out of harm's way, only seconds away from being crushed under the flying hunk of metal and rubber.

Setting Animagus down a second time, Obscurus said quickly, “The golem is wearing a thin bracelet! It has to be where the Imperius is!”

“Good eye, my boy!” The Director chimed in, “Now go get that bracelet and capture that Imperius!”

“Animagus--” Obscurus began to say, but Animagus was already on it, pushing himself back up to his feet with a grin.

“Distract the enemy! You got it!” He called out as he ran towards the golem, not even trembling at the earth-shattering roar the beast gave. When he was close enough, Animagus transformed into what looked like a small puffball of white cashmere wool and four stick-thin legs jutting out from the bottom, capped by small black hooves. He trotted forward with barely a care, and proceeded to hop and jump onto the golem, climbing all over it with the balance and grace of a mountain goat.

“What is that ungodly creature?” The Director questioned slowly, but Obscurus didn't answer him, for he himself didn't have the slightest clue. Not that he ever knew what creatures Animagus dared to turn into.

With the golem distracted by Animagus, Obscurus ran around behind it, hoping to stay out of sight and target range as he planned the perfect way to get the bracelet. It was small and tied in place, but Obscurus was certain that with the right pull, he would be able to steal it.

Stealth would have to do, he soon decided, so he ducked behind a parked car and willed his hand to turn to smoke. Reaching out with his detached tendril, Obscurus reformed just a finger and his thumb, pinching one end of the bracelet delicately. He began to tug and pull, but the knot was tight and barely giving.

“Come on...” Obscurus whispered, narrowing his eyes as he tried a different angle, only to lose his grip moments later when the golem tried to grab Animagus from his shoulder. Huffing in irritation, Obscurus took a few steps closer, though he stayed close to the car for cover. Willing his other hand to smoke, he reached out and began picking at the bracelet with two fingers and two thumbs, wrestling with the knot to try and loosen it.

The golem finally caught Animagus and his wooly glory. Animagus bleated in terror, but the golem held no sympathy and reared its arm back, throwing Animagus like a football through the air, his cry fading the further he flew.

“Animagus!” Obscurus shouted, and the golem turned its sights on him, huffing angrily. Obscurus felt his blood run cold, realizing his mistake, but he barely had enough time to make up for it before the enemy was on him.

Thick, stone fingers wrapped around Obscurus' middle, lifting him into the air despite his squirming. He briefly considered turning to smoke and flitting away, but as the golem raised him higher, he realized the bracelet was right in front of him.

Grabbing at the thin bracelet with both hands, Credence yanked the jewelry free, snapping the string in the process. The golem, in its last moments of monstrous rage, threw Obscurus just as he threw Animagus, sending the poor boy flying through the air.

It all happened in seconds. From the broken bracelet, Obscurus could see the Imperius take its typical form of an iridescent violet-black butterfly and begin to flutter away. Knowing that if the Imperius got away, it would only do more harm, Obscurus summoned forth his weapon, something he rarely ever used in battle due to his non-violent nature. Materializing from the same smoke Obscurus possessed came his monkey-fist flogger, the ends of which were embellished by the very same pendant that hung from his neck, the silver bisected circle encased in a triangle providing sharp edges that promise pain.

It was with his weapon that Obscurus lashed out at the Imperius, slicing the evil yet otherwise beautiful little butterfly into bits and watching as it burst apart without abandon, leaving behind a pure white butterfly without a trace of black in its wake. A triumphant cheer came through his earpiece, both from the Director and, unmistakably, from Animagus. Obscurus would have celebrated as well--if he wasn't still in free-fall from the toss from the golem-turned-human-again.

He crashed into the windshield of a car, the glass shattering in a spiderweb pattern and the metal hood screeching as it dented in. Pain rocketed through Obscurus' body, some glass digging into his shoulder blades and back. He was absolutely certain he was going to bruise, like usual.

As the victim gathered his surroundings and tried to put together what had happened to them, Animagus rushed to Obscurus' side in the form of a billywig, popping back into a human shape to ask in a breathlessly, “Are you okay?”

“I'll be fine,” Obscurus groaned, slowly peeling himself from the Obscurus-shaped indent in the front of the car. Animagus grabbed him by the wrists to help him, and when the two of them were standing on solid ground again, they both let out a breath of relief.

“Good job, my boys,” Director chimed in, a satisfied tone in his voice, “Looks like Manhattan is safe for another day.”

“God forbid it stay safe for a whole week,” Obscurus groaned, picking glass from his forearms. Animagus snorted and helped him brush glass from his back and shoulders.

“Come on, at least we get to hang out every time Grindelwald sends out another Imperius,” Animagus offered with a meek smile, and Obscurus huffed a weak laugh.

“Maybe we could hang out without danger looming over us.” He suggested lightly, only to look on in surprise when Animagus' eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

However, before they could make any real plans, The Director cut in with a curt, “Boys, let's not get ahead of ourselves, now. We have a whole park to clean up. Obscurus?”

“Right, sorry,” Obscurus replied apologetically, and he took a few steps away from Animagus before he eyed the flogger in his hand. Peering up into the sky, Obscurus threw the flogger high into the air, all the while shouting, “Scourgify!”

The flogger cartwheeled into the air, and when it reached its apex, it burst into a brilliant white light before it shattered apart, streaks of light shooting from it, magically reversing any and all damage caused by the little tiff they held in the park across from the school.

As soon as the last car window was repaired and the tree rooted back in its rightful place, Obscurus dropped to a knee with a groan, his necklace flickering between a mystical pale white glow and a dull, barely shiny silver.

“Obscurus!” Animagus gasped, taking a few steps forward before pausing, “Your Miraculous—it's almost out of juice!”

“Don't worry about me. You're probably on your last legs too,” Obscurus pointed out, nodding towards the pocket watch clipped tightly to the front of Animagus' outfit. It, too, was flashing in warning, and when Animagus noticed it, he visibly tensed.

“It's okay! I'll get you out of here.” Obscurus reassured him, and with the last of his power, he burst into smoke once more and scooped Animagus up, carrying him away from the epicenter of the battle and away from prying eyes and admirers. A few blocks over and tucked into an alleyway, Obscurus dropped Animagus off in the shadows but didn't have the strength to reform back into a human without risking losing his power and turning back into a bland non-super human. Barely waiting a moment longer, Obscurus shot into the air and hurried back to his own home, finally planning to do what he told Professor Graves he would do and check on his sisters.

Luckily, they lived rather far from where most of the excitement was. He knew he never had to worry overmuch about his little sisters. Chastity was strong and resilient and Modesty, though easily frightened, could hide in many small places and keep out of danger. He was absolutely certain that they could go through such chaos unscathed, though he prayed it never came to that.

Still as smoke, Obscurus slipped through the open window of his attic bedroom, settling on the floor as a human once more with a pained grunt. With one last, pitiful chime, his Miraculous ran out of power and in a bright light, his costume vanished, leaving Credence kneeling on the wooden floor of his bedroom, dressed in his Ilvermorny school uniform once more, his back and arms sore and cut up.

“Credence?” Came a voice from behind, small and worried, and Credence's lips tugged into a tired smile.

Looking over his shoulder, Credence met the wide-eyed stare of his youngest sister, his best friend, his confidante, and said weakly, “Hey, Modesty. Good day at school?”

 


	3. Chapter 2: Home Livin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See our heroes out of their costumes!

“Credence, are you okay?!” Modesty whimpered, kneeling upright on Credence's bed with Chastity's phone in her hands, “ _ObscurusFan100_ live streamed the whole thing!”

Credence sighed and carefully got himself back on his feet needing to grab the edge of his desk in order to do so, and he said in what he hoped was a scolding tone, “Modesty, I told you not to take Chastity's phone.”

“That monster threw you into a car!” Modesty cried, gesturing with the phone in question, so Credence rolled his eyes and quickly nicked it from her small hands. He looked at the screen with a frown, seeing it was still open on ObscurusFan100's blog, the livestream having ended. This fanatic of his had been following him and Animagus around with almost every fight, recording it for the public to see, along with snapping as many pictures as he can of the two heroes. It was sweet, Credence supposed, but a little creepy all the same. Then again, Credence never thought he would ever have such a devoted fan like ObscurusFan100.

Playing back the video, Credence watched from an odd angle as Animagus was grabbed by the golem and shot into the air. ObscurusFan100 gasped and whispered anxiously, “I hope he's okay!” Soon after, the golem marched on over to Obscurus, picking him up by the middle, and flinging him into a car half a block away.

Credence cringed, paused the video, and said, “It looks worse than it is...”

“Credence, you couldn't even stand on your own.” Modesty pointed out, and Credence furrowed his eyebrows at her in an attempt to glare.

Before he could get another word in, however, the door to his bedroom was flung open, and Chastity stomped in, her pretty face pinched in irritation. She snatched her phone from Credence's hand with a huff, then turned to Modesty and shouted, “Don't touch my stuff, you little troll!”

“Chastity,” Credence sighed, but Chastity didn't offer him a moment of her time. Instead, she looked down at the screen in her hand, noticing the site they were on, then rolled her eyes.

“This again? I can't believe you guys are still into this nonsense.” She mocked, and Modesty's eyes flared up in a defensive rage.

“Shut up! Obscurus is cool!” She shouted. Credence offered her a meek smile, but he knew Chastity could care less about superheroes and super villains.

“Obscurus and Animagus are delinquents who wreck our city!” Chastity declared, not noticing the way Credence seemed to curl in on himself, “They're magical _freaks_ who have no sense of self-preservation! They're a terrible influence on the younger generation—to _you_! Besides, if they actually wanted to be 'heroes,'” she gestured mockingly with air quotes, “They would have found the actual bad guy by now and arrested him!”

“You're just jealous because you don't have superpowers like they do!” Modesty yelled, climbing off of Credence's bed and shoving past her older sister. Her little feet thundered down the stairs and then her bedroom door slammed shut behind her. Credence sighed again, but Chastity only looked pleased with herself.

“Afternoon, Credence,” She said lightly, tucking her cell phone into her pocket, “How was school?”

“You two need to get along better,” Credence ignored her question with a frown, “She's your little sister...”

“She's _not_ my sister.” Chastity snorted, crossing her arms and leveling her icy stare at him.

“She's as much your sister as she is mine.” Credence huffed, squeezing his hands into fists and refusing to meet her gaze, even though he know that his lack of eye-contact was equivalent to letting Chastity win this argument already, “She's your sister just like you're _my_ sister.”

“No, she's not. You and I were together since we were kids. We were in the same foster homes and everything.” Chastity sighed, uncomfortable with their past being brought up, “Modesty was... Modesty was some _extra_.”

“Don't call her that. Please, just... just try to get along. For my sake?” Credence begged, but Chastity only sighed and headed for his bedroom door.

She paused at the threshold, her hand resting on the wooden frame, and she said over her shoulder, “Mom won't be home tonight again... She said to make dinner ourselves.”

Credence sighed again, heavier this time, and he muttered, “I'll get something started... Did she say when she _will_ be home?”

Chastity tapped her fingers against the frame, her shoulders stiff, and she answered quietly, “No... She... She isn't answering my calls.”

Credence grunted and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It had been a week already, and Ma hadn't been grocery shopping in a long while. They were down to canned corn, cream of mushroom soup, and half a bag of pancake mix. Credence didn't have a job, and Chastity wasn't old enough to get one. The only money any of them had were the dollar bills they found on the streets on the odd day walking home from school.

Tiredly, Credence said, “Go do your homework. I'll put something together.” Chastity only nodded briefly and left, closing Credence's bedroom door behind her and allowing the young man a moment of solitude.

It will be a struggle like it always was. He just hoped Ma would come back soon.

\------------------

Theseus got home later than usual, his phone still in his hand as he posted the last of his pictures, captioning each one with '#had to be there' and '#superhero selfie.' He unlocked the door to the house and stepped inside blindly, toeing off his shoes and dropping his bag in the middle of the hallway.

“Theseus?” Came his little brother's voice from the basement, “Is that you?”

“Hey, Newt. How was home?” He called out, locking his phone and slipping it into his back pocket before he made his way down the wooden stairs and into what Newt liked to call 'The Scamander Zoo.' As soon as he made it to the ground, he saw his little brother sitting on the thick red rug in the center of the room with his banana ball python wrapped comfortably around his gut and over his shoulders, her little head resting on Newt's crown. Her tongue flickered in the air briefly, as if surveying the new scent of Theseus in her space.

“Susan is doing much better,” Newt said with a smile, sitting perfectly still so that he didn't rustle her from her place. “Still pretty clingy, though. I think she's nervous to be in her habitat, even though I _told_ her it's _much_ warmer in there than on _me_.”

Theseus chuckled and stepped a little closer, only stopping at the edge of Newt's rug so he could squat down to Newt's level. His little brother grinned and continued to list, “Harry,” Newt's African Grey, “Is still molting, so he's been a bit standoffish. Eliza,” Newt's axolotl, “ate two _whole_ earthworms today—little minx! Gary, Mary, and Stephen,” Newt's three hedgehogs, “had bath time today, so they're huddled under one of the heat lamps to dry. Oh, and I can't find George.”

Theseus' fond smile dropped in seconds, and he asked, “What do you mean you can't find George?”

Newt had the audacity to look sheepish, and his shoulders bounced minutely as he mumbled, “Well, you see, I was going to bathe George after I bathed Gary, Mary, and Stephen, but by the time they were all done, I turned around, and he was just... gone?”

“You let him into the house?!” Theseus huffed, getting to his feet and running up the stairs, despite Newt's shout for him to stay quiet lest he scare George. Theseus didn't care if he scared George, however. The little terror was probably the worst out of all of Newt's pets!

Already figuring where the damned thing would be, Theseus burst into his room and came upon a scene of utter chaos, his dresser drawers hanging open and his unmentionables thrown everywhere.

And there, sitting in the very center of the mess, was Newt's fennec fox.

George met Theseus' eyes tauntingly, challenging him to take another step, and when Theseus did, he let out a terrifying screech and charged at Theseus. The young man shouted and backpedaled away from the insane little monster, and he very really thought about punting the creepy creature out of his room when Newt appeared sans Susan, wearing a worried expression in his big green eyes.

“Oh, oh, oh, George!” He cooed, and immediately the fox stopped his screaming and instead began to chirp and whine. As soon as Newt lowered himself onto his knees, George was climbing into his lap and curling up into a little ball, playing the victim. “Did the big, mean Theseus give you a fright? Oh, yes he did!”

“What? Me? Scare _him_?! Are you kidding me?” Theseus huffed, tugging at his hair, “Look at my _room_ , Newton!”

Newt did, but only at a glance, and he picked George up and started carrying him back to his zoo, all the while saying in a baby voice, “That big, nasty Theseus better learn how to pick up after himself, shouldn't he? Shouldn't he?”

“Newton! Newton Artemis Scamander, you get back here with that little monster and make him clean up after himself!” Theseus shouted, practically about to explode with rage, but Newt ignored him and soon locked himself back into his basement, leaving Theseus to deal with this mess.

It was only when dinner was ready did Newt reappear from his den, sitting at the table with Theseus and their parents as they ate alfredo pasta.

“How was school, Theseus?” Their mother asked, taking a break from her meal and was instead sipping at her glass of water.

“Uneventful for the most part,” Theseus sighed, only to then sit upright and say in delight, “Oh, but right after school, I saw Obscurus and Animagus fight off a giant rock monster!”

“Golem,” Newt supplied.

“Yeah, sure, golem—And it grabbed Obscurus and threw him right into a car, mom! And he just got back up and brushed himself off like it was nothing!” Theseus finished, much to his parents' delight and worry.

“You're always getting caught up in their little fights, Theseus. You're going to get hurt one day.” Their mother pointed out, but Theseus merely shrugged it off.

“They wouldn't let some everyday citizen get hurt, mom. I swear, I'll be careful.” He promised, and Newt rolled his eyes as he stabbed his fork into the alfredo. The action didn't go as unnoticed as he had hoped it would, however, for he could see their mom zeroing in on him in seconds.

“And how were your classes today, Newton?” She asked, and Newt felt his shoulders go stiff.

“Fine,” He replied under his breath, staring down at his half-eaten plate, “Still far ahead of the rest of the class, so I didn't have to do much after the seminar.”

Their mother huffed, a high, disbelieving noise that came through her nose, and she slowly turned her gaze back towards her dinner before remarking, “It really is a wonder how well you're doing in these online classes, Newton. Makes me wonder why we took you out from normal school in the first place.”

“Mom,” Theseus whispered just as their father called her name in a warning tone.

“Ethel,” He said, lowering his fork to level a look at his wife.

“What?” She huffed, grabbing her napkin from the table so she could nervously pick at the edges, “I'm just saying, Newt should go back to a normal school and have a normal schedule and get normal friends!”

“I have friends!” Newt argued, growing tenser even though he still didn't meet her eye, “Just because they don't walk on two legs and speak English doesn't mean they're not my friends!”

“They're animals, Newt! They're pets! They don't have any capacity for human emotion!” Ethel cried, her voice getting louder as they fell back into their usual argument, “You need to get out of this house every once-in-a-while and face the world, Newt, because one day soon, you're going to have to deal with everyone out there! You can't just hide in the basement forever!”

“I'm not hiding!” Newt shouted, his face turning red and his voice rising in pitch, “I'm taking college-level classes, mom! I've already been accepted to two universities, and I'm not even a senior yet! I'm doing so much better being home schooled, and you know it! If I go back to 'normal' school on a 'normal' schedule, I'm just going to fail and get bullied again and not want to go!”

“Oh, stop being a drama queen, Newton! You were hardly getting bullied! It was just some girl!” Ethel shouted back, throwing the napkin onto the table and leaning back in her seat, giving up on the conversation. Newt, meanwhile, only gaped at his mother in disbelief. Even Theseus and their father were silent, staring wide-eyed at their plates and trying not to breathe too loudly.

They stayed this way for a long, tense half minute, and then Newt was shoving himself out of his chair and running upstairs to his bedroom, slamming the door loudly behind him.

“Ethel...” Their father whispered, almost heartbroken, but Ethel looked completely unapologetic.

“Mom, that was just... unfair.” Theseus muttered, frowning at his alfredo, “You know Leta was practically torturing him.”

“That was two years ago, Theseus!” Ethel pushed, trying to convince her family to see from her eyes, “You were bullied, too, and we didn't pull you from school.”

“Newt's different, mom... He's a gentle sort of guy.” Theseus argued for his little brother.

“Well, he's going to have to toughen up if he expects to survive in the real world.” She sniffed, grabbing her fork again and ordering her oldest son, “Finish your dinner.”

Upstairs, tucked away in his room, Newt sat on his bed with his knees hugged to his chest and his chin resting atop them. His anger towards his mother and how unfair she was being was still pounding hard in his chest and ears. He hated being angry, he hated being scared, because all it made him want to do was cry, and he hated crying. He wished he had gone to the basement instead so he could play with George or cuddle with Susan. They would make him feel better. They were his friends...

A noise from his desk at his left caught his attention. Peering over his arm, he spotted his backpack sitting on the desktop, shifting around as something inside of it crawled about. He continued to watch as something round and golden peeked out from the smallest pocket, followed closely after by a tiny twig-like creature. Black beady eyes met Newt's, and with a cute chirp, the creature hefted the golden pocket watch into his arms and proceeded to carry it over to Newt, falling from the desk and onto the floor, then climbing up onto his bed using the blankets that hung off the edge.

By the time he made it to Newt, the human was smiling down at him and happily scooped the creature, and the pocket watch up and settled him on his knees.

“Hello Pickett,” Newt greeted gently, scratching the twig's cheek affectionately, “Worried about me, huh?”

Pickett chirped and nodded, then lifted the pocket watch purposefully, waving it in front of his face. Newt sniffled and gently took the watch, then looking it over before asking, “Are you sure? We took a heavy beating today...”

Pickett nodded excitedly, touching Newt's thumb as it folded over the watch. With a soft sigh, Newt whispered, “Alright,” and he slowly got up, one hand holding Pickett, the other holding the golden pocket watch.

He held the watch aloft, watching it glint in the sunset light through his bedroom window, and said with gusto, “Pickett! Transform me!”

Pickett was sucked into the pocket watch with a chirp, and as soon as the last of him was contained, the pocket watch glowed with a brilliant power, heating up the metal to a comfortable temperature in Newt's hand.

Tucking the pocket watch in the pocket of his pants, Newt allowed the magic to fill his palms. He ran his hands over his eyes, threw his arms out, and allowed the magic to run from his fingertips to his shoulders and down his body, ending at his toes. With a brief spin, Newt became Animagus and was left standing in the middle of his bedroom in his superhero outfit.

Newt caught sight of himself in his free-standing mirror in the corner of his room, and he grinned to himself as he looked over his outfit. His mask was a soft, earthy green, the color of moss. His boots were what Animagus could only call explorer's boots, thick, calf-high brown leather with yellow-orange laces crisscrossing along the front. His pants were skin-tight and dark brown, but flexible all the same, but his most favorite part of his outfit was his coat.

It was a vibrant but dark blue color, with sleeves so tight they clung to his wrists and hugged his arms and shoulders beautifully. It had a deep v-neck collar that clasped just underneath his chest with two brass buttons before shooting back out in another v-shape, curving around his hips and reaching down to the backs of his knees in two sharp points, mimicking that of a swallow's tail. Underneath his jacket was a black-and-yellow cravat, tucked into the coat with no risk of slipping out.

He didn't care much for the colors. Newt had a terrible sense of fashion, so of course, Animagus would too. Besides, Animagus was never really wearing his outfit all that much in the midst of battle, anyways, because he could turn into any animal he dared to imagine.

Jumping onto his bed, Animagus threw his bedroom window open, then transformed with a flash of magical light into a swallow, fluttering out of the window with a chirp and taking to the skies.

Just as Newt left, dinner downstairs ended, and Theseus made his way to Newt's bedroom door to try and coax his little brother out. He knocked politely once, twice, and then a third time when Newt still didn't answer him, and soon fell to calling through the door, “Newt, come on, it's just me...”

When Newt still didn't answer, Theseus sighed and set his head on the door in irritation, then continued to speak, “You know Mom means well... She just... She's just worried for you, that's all... Please, just... Let me in?”

Still nothing. Theseus knocked his head against the door twice more before growing irritated, “That's it. I'm going to count to three. If you don't open this door by then, I'm letting myself in!” He declared, waiting for a few moments to see if Newt would finally answer.

“One,” Theseus counted, putting his hand on the doorknob and his ear to the door, trying to listen for any hint of footsteps on the floor.

“Two,” He continued, squeezing the doorknob in his fist and closing his eyes. He clenched his teeth, considered it for a long moment, then said, “Two and a _half_.”

When the door still didn't open, Theseus groaned and shouted, “Three!” before he threw it open with vigor. “Newton--!” He began to scold, irritated at being snuffed, but he immediately fell silent when he found Newt's room empty, the window on the opposite wall hanging open with the curtains billowing in the afternoon breeze.

Theseus sighed. This wasn't the first time Newt ran off after a fight, but Theseus was really hoping to try and comfort him this time. Defeated and worried, Theseus closed Newt's bedroom door and went to his own room, already planning to stay up until Newt returned home. He just needed to cool off, Theseus told himself. That's all...

 


	4. Chapter 3: Hero's Complex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obscurus and Animagus take a stroll with a hand on their weiners.

 

Animagus sighed as he sat upon the roof of the city library, his feet dangling over the edge and swinging carelessly. The sun was long gone, and the moon was shining brightly. Animagus wasn't worried, however. He knew that the magic keeping him Animagus would last a long while so long as he didn't really use his powers. It allowed him for long nights sitting on various rooftops, watching the night life far below him in its quiet, sleepy energy.

Most nights that he came out, he did so alone. Tonight he had the same intentions, but it seemed like he wasn't the only one who needed a minute of fresh air.

The whisper of shadows behind him alerted him to Obscurus' presence, and slowly his kicking stopped.

“Is everything okay?” Obscurus asked, sounding worried. Animagus shrugged, looking over his shoulder to peer up at the man looming over him.

“Manhattan is as sleepy as it could be. Not an enemy in sight.” Animagus reported happily, offering Obscurus a smile. The hero regarded the surrounding area for a quick moment, then slowly walked over to Animagus' side, plopping down at the edge of the roof with him. “What brings you out?”

“I patrol every night,” Obscurus answered, sounding as if it wasn't a huge responsibility he had taken on. “What about you?”

Animagus flushed, suddenly embarrassed for running off just because his mom yelled at him. He hardly thought that was a good enough reason, and he certainly didn't want to tell Obscurus he was having problems at home, so he scratched the back of his neck and said in a high-pitched voice, “Oh, you know.... patrolling, too.”

Obscurus smiled, clearly not buying the lie, but he didn't call Animagus out on it. Instead, he tilted his head and continued to watch the busy night, looking wonderfully relaxed in a way Animagus never really saw before. It was amazing, seeing his ally just... sitting here, beside him. There were no enemies, no danger, and no real reason for either of them to be here. They were just... here. Together. Like Obscurus said they should be.

“You were really brave today.” Animagus found himself saying, his voice soft, barely even realizing the words had slipped from his lips until Obscurus was looking at him curiously, “Er... I saw that blogger's live stream. Even when that Golem grabbed you, you stayed really calm and collected.”

Obscurus blinked, then smiled almost shyly before he ducked his head, completely out of character for a strong leader like him. Animagus felt his heart leap into his throat thinking that he was the only one who could see this hidden side of him. And then, just when he thought he couldn't be any luckier, Obscurus whispered, “I was terrified, actually.”

“What?” Animagus whispered, both in disbelief and awe. How amazing this man was, how humble. Being able to admit his fear when he was supposed to be the most powerful person in Manhattan—heck, maybe in all of America—only made Animagus adore and desire him more. “You didn't even look it! You snatched that bracelet right off his wrist and crushed that Imperius like it was nothing!”

This time, Obscurus let out a weak laugh, his pale cheeks turning red at the compliments. “What about you?” He decided to say, turning the spotlight on his partner. Animagus sat up straight, his eyes wide and his eyebrows lifting high.

“What _about_ me?” Animagus asked slowly, leaning back a little as if Obscurus was about to lash out at him, a foolish thought.

“That golem grabbed you when you were... were...” He struggled for the word, not even sure _what_ Animagus was.

“A Cashmere Puffskein.” Animagus supplied, and Obscurus' eyes lit up in amazement.

“When you were a Cashmere Puffskein, that Golem snatched you from his body and _threw you_!” Obscurus finished, making a brief mockery of the gesture. Animagus only burst out in laughter, snorting all the while.

“Are you kidding? I was screaming the whole way up! I barely even remembered I could transform into a bird until I started plummeting back towards the ground!” Animagus laughed, and Obscurus couldn't help but laugh along with him.

As the two of them settled down, Animagus couldn't help but stare at Obscurus once again, feeling so lucky that he was sitting here with him, talking to him like a friend, _laughing with him_. He sucked in a short breath, suddenly wondering if Obscurus thought of him as a friend just as well. Obscurus was wiping at his eyes, brushing away a few mirthful tears, and he slowly leaned back on his hands, still smiling in the moonlight.

Animagus nervously chewed on his bottom lip. He wondered briefly if things like this could be common for them, sitting around without purpose and just talking. He wondered if they could maybe take it a step further.

“Obscurus?” He asked quietly, and the superhero turned his head to look at him, still smiling fondly. Animagus chewed on his lip again, kicked his heels against the building wall, then asked in the smallest voice he could muster, “Do you think... maybe...”

Obscurus waited patiently, and when no more words came from Animagus, he prompted him to continue with a gentle and curious, “Maybe...?”

Animagus held his breath, and with a few nervous glances, he pulled his feet up and sat cross-legged at the edge of the building. Stuffing his hand into his pocket, Animagus took out his golden pocket watch, still clasped to the front of his coat. As he held his watch in his palms, stroking his thumb along the metal, he finally whispered, “I... I want to know who you are.”

Almost immediately, Obscurus' smile dropped. He turned his head away a moment later, his whole body tense. Animagus watched him, wide-eyed and with worry pounding in his chest, and slowly Obscurus mumbled, “I... I don't know if that's a good idea...”

“Why not?” Animagus pushed, gripping his pocket watch tighter and leaning forward, his gaze imploring. Obscurus only leaned further back, keeping his head turned away, watching the traffic below them.

“Wouldn't it be dangerous?” Obscurus asked quietly, crossing his arms loosely across his stomach, “I mean... if we know who we are... who's to say we won't slip up in public? We... We can't risk out identities like that, Animagus. We can't risk our _families_ like that...”

“It's not like we're doing it out in the open. I mean, look around us! No one's here!” Animagus continued to say, but this time instead of turning away, Obscurus sucked in a sharp breath and stood up, taking a few steps away from the ledge. Animagus pushed himself up as well, chasing after him, “We might not even know each other! I... I just want to know your name...”

“The Director said to never reveal our secret identities.” Obscurus stated in a stern tone, turning to face Animagus again, stopping his advance with a sharp gesture of his hand, “Not to anyone, not even to each other.”

“The Director isn't here!” Animagus huffed, “He's _never_ here!”

“He's always listening,” Obscurus muttered, gesturing to his ear, but Animagus only snorted in disbelief.

Putting his hand to his earpiece to transmit his voice, Animagus called out loudly, “He isn't here, is he? Director! Di- _rector!_ ” Obscurus flinched, hissing at the shrill burst of feedback he got. When The Director predictably didn't answer back, Animagus threw out his hands and said, “He isn't always listening, and he can't tell us what to do. He doesn't know what it's like being _Obscurus_ and _Animagus!_ I just--” He clenched his jaw, wanting to fight back the burst of emotion, and he struggled to say, “I just want to know that we're friends...”

Obscurus had the audacity to look offended at that statement, and Animagus huffed and turned his back on him, biting down on his lip to keep his tears at bay. Maybe he had misread this whole situation. Maybe Obscurus wanted nothing more to do with him than work with him every few days. Maybe he just wanted to keep Manhattan safe and _dealt_ with Animagus in order to do so. Maybe his mom was right, and he needed to toughen up.

“Animagus,” Obscurus said in a rough voice, only to pause and sigh before trying again, “You're... You _are_ my friend. You're my _best friend_. There's no one in the whole world that I'd rather fight with, I promise.” Animagus crossed his arms and tried to discretely sniff, wishing for a moment that he was more like his brother instead of a soft-hearted, lovesick fool.

Obscurus came closer, close enough that Animagus could see the shadow and smoke curling from the edges of his shawl, and he said, “But I'm scared. I have my family to think about. If they ever get hurt... I don't know what I would do. Please, just... try to understand.”

Animagus sighed, his shoulders slumping down. He understood, he really did, he just wished it didn't have to be this way. He loved being a hero, sure, but he was lonely, even with his animals at home. He just wanted to know someone like-minded, and when he finally met someone just like him, he was forced to keep his name a secret. It was unfair, and he wanted to fight it wholeheartedly... but Obscurus was right. He was always right. If Theseus ever got hurt just because Animagus told Obscurus who he was, the guilt would be crushing.

“I do understand,” He finally gave in, making sure there were no tears in his eyes before he faced Obscurus again, “I just don't like it.”

Obscurus smiled a little and shrugged, saying, “Well.. you never know. Maybe we _do_ know each other.” He joked lightly, making Animagus laugh under his breath before he shook his head.

“I can count all the people I know on my hand, and all but one is a member of my family.” Animagus told him before he leaned in closer and whispered, “The mail-woman isn't talkative, but once you give her a bag of dog treats for the yippy Chihuahuas downtown, she'll tell you her whole life story.”

“Well, maybe we'll meet each other one day,” Obscurus amended, and this time, Animagus' smile was softer and more genuine.

“Yeah... maybe...” He mumbled, ducking his head for a moment. They stood there silently, awkwardly trying to figure out how to move on from here. Animagus rocked back and forth on his heels while Obscurus cleared his throat and tapped the toe of his left shoe against the rooftop.

They both sucked in a breath and started talking right at the same time, cutting each other off. They both laughed nervously, a little half chuckle, but then there was another interruption. Animagus blinked in surprise at the rumbling growling that came from Obscurus, then asked incredulously, “Are you hungry?”

Obscurus, blushing in embarrassment, muttered, “I... I forgot to eat dinner...”

“Forgot to--?” Animagus huffed, then said, “Well, what are we doing up here? There has to be an open hot dog stand somewhere around here.”

Obscurus turned pale—well, as pale as he could get—and muttered, “I-I... don't carry my wallet like this.” He gestured to his costumed self, but Animagus was already waving his hands at him and shaking his head.

“I got it, don't worry! Let's see,” He shoved his hand into his coat pocket, rustling around for a long minute, then grunting and pushing his hand in further, halfway to his elbow now. Obscurus gaped at him as Animagus rustled around, and then shook his head in disbelief when Animagus huffed and shoved his arm even _deeper_.

“Are you serious?” Obscurus asked incredulously, but Animagus only shot him a cheesy grin.

“Found it!” He declared, yanking his entire forearm from his seemingly endless pocket, a bundle of cash in his fist. “Come on, you can't turn me down for hot dogs!”

“I-I—You shouldn't—I don't want to be in your debt--” Obscurus tried to refuse, but Animagus snorted and trotted back towards the edge of the building.

“You don't have to pay me back! Just come eat hot dogs with me.” Animagus begged, clasping his hands in front of him in a pleading gesture, “There's no risk in just one little hot dog, is there?”

“What do you think the people would think of it?” Obscurus asked, gesturing widely to encompass the public, “We have a reputation to uphold...”

“Manhattan is safe! There are no enemies out! You patrol every night! You deserve a hot dog!” Animagus sighed, setting his hands on his hips, “Besides, what's more important? Your image or your health?”

Obscurus gaped at his ally. He remembered saying the very same thing once before to Chastity. She had been forcing herself to sick up her meals, and when Credence found out, he nearly lost it. He had told himself he would never understand why she wanted to do such a thing, to avoid food just so someone would think she's pretty, and yet here he was. Maybe not wanting to owe Animagus was just an excuse. Maybe saying there wasn't enough dinner for all three of them was another one.

After a long moment, Obscurus shut his jaw with a click and gave in.

“Okay...” He mumbled, closing his eyes, “Just _one_ hot dog. And then we're both going home.”

“Scout's honor.” Animagus replied happily, reaching out to take Obscurus' hand, a rather bold gesture made so easy when hidden behind a mask. Obscurus seemed to like it, anyways, but Animagus didn't get to relish his smile, for a moment later they were both enveloped by smoke. Obscurus carried them down to the streets, reforming into a human when Animagus had both feet on the concrete.

The spattering of people around them reeled back in surprise at seeing their two heroes appearing. Obscurus could already see some of them twisting their heads about, trying to see what sort of danger might be afoot to warrant their presence. Animagus, however, seemed to be blind to the nervous murmuring and odd stares. Taking his hand again, Animagus lead Obscurus through the crowd and across the street, a delighted little smile on his face.

The longer they walked purposefully through the crowd, the more relaxed the citizens around them seemed to be, until soon some of them were pulling out their phones and snapping pictures. Obscurus cringed and tried to duck his head, but Animagus only laughed and waved at a few of the night owls, remarking in a delighted voice, “Oh, my brother's going to be _so_ mad.”

Obscurus blinked, but before he could comment, Animagus was approaching a red-eyed hot dog vendor, who looked like he'd much rather be curled up and asleep _anywhere else_. The man looked up at Animagus' cheery grin with distaste, and barely got moving even when the hero requested, “Two hot dogs, please! Mustard and ketchup!”

“Eight bucks.” The man replied without moving, and immediately Obscurus recoiled.

“Eight dollars? Animagus, you can't seriously--” He began to argue, but the damned man was already pulling a ten from his wad of cash and handing it over as if it were nothing. Obscurus wanted to reach out and snatch it from him, demand he put it back in his pocket and think of a more suitable and cost-efficient snack they could partake in.

“Thanks.” The man grunted, not even pretending to consider giving Animagus his change before he started cooking two dogs.

Three minutes later and they both were holding their dressed hot dogs, walking once more down the street. Animagus was already biting into his snack while Obscurus merely held his, staring at it with a hateful sort of want. It was so expensive, he couldn't possibly take it... but Animagus already paid for it, so it would be horribly wasteful _not_ to...

“Don't tell me you're vegetarian...” Animagus was suddenly saying, looking at Obscurus with wide eyes. When Obscurus only looked back, mouth hanging open dumbly, Animagus flushed and quickly stammered, “Not that there's anything wrong with that! I just mean—I shouldn't have— _drat_ , I really should have asked first! Here, you don't have to--” Animagus reached forward to take the hot dog from him, but Obscurus flinched back defensively, clutching the hot dog as close to himself without getting condiments on his costume.

“It's okay! I—I'm not a vegetarian!” He quickly said, only to inwardly curse at himself. It was such an easy excuse! He should have taken the out while he had it!

“What's the matter then? More of a cat person?” Animagus joked weakly, a touch of hurt in his eyes as he tried to understand. Obscurus felt his stomach flip at the thought of disappointing his ally.

With a forlorn sigh, Obscurus ducked his head and muttered, “It's not that... It's...” Another sigh and he answered, “This is probably the most food I've had all week...”

This time, Animagus' eyes lit with hurt for an entirely different reason. “Obscurus...” He whispered, completely shocked, but Obscurus was already shaking his head.

“Don't. Don't pity me.” He demanded, taking a few fast paces away.

“Obscurus, wait--!” Animagus pleaded, wanting to talk to him about it, to tell him that he could ask him for _anything_ , to demand why someone as strong and amazing at _Obscurus_ would be forced to suffer so, but his words died as quickly as Obscurus vanished in a cloud of smoke, zipping into the air and disappearing in the night.

Animagus sighed, feeling dejected and cold, so he transformed into a barn owl and took to the air. He knew he shouldn't have pushed Obscurus to talk, especially when he had expressed his explicit lack of desire to put his family in danger. Even saying as little as he had was probably much too overwhelming for the man. Animagus feared that he might have ruined their fickle little friendship this night, and wondered if it would be too soon to find someone else to take the pocket watch and Pickett and explain to them that it was their turn to protect Manhattan.

He dove into his window, turning human at the very last second, so he hit the ground hard. With a burst of light, he was back in his house clothes, usually consisting of loose cloth pants and a loose t-shirt. Flying in the wind was relaxing, but now, kneeling in the middle of the room as himself, Newt felt his face covered in his tears.

“Drat,” He whimpered, wiping at his eyes roughly as he climbed into his bed, “Why do you have to cry all the time, Newt? You're supposed to be a man...”

He flopped on his bed, sprawled out on his back, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will his damn emotions away. The knock at his door was expected, but unwelcome all the same.

“Go away,” Newt hissed, trying to keep his voice down for his parents' sake. Instead of listening, Theseus pushed open Newt's bedroom door and stepped inside, shutting it closed behind him.

“I don't want to hear it,” Newt mumbled, rolling onto his side so Theseus could only see his back, but his brother still advanced.

“You know she means well,” Theseus said softly, sitting on the edge of Newt's bed, his voice low and tired, lined with a yawn, “She just wants to see you bloom.”

“She wants me to turn into you.” Newt grunted, closing his eyes and trying to wipe more of his treacherous tears away, “I bet if she had the option, she'd choose to have a clone of you than me.”

“You know that's not true, Newton. You know she loves you.” Theseus said sternly, suddenly more awake, so Newt bit his tongue and didn't reply. After a beat, Theseus let out a breath and whispered, “And I know you love her too, and I know you have trouble seeing it sometimes, but she says these things because she's worried about you. _I'm_ worried about you, Newt. You've been running off in the middle of the night more and more often... Sometimes I don't even hear you come home...”

“Yeah, well, staying cooped up in here isn't exactly ideal,” Newt grumbled, trying to hide a sniffle between his words, “I don't _want_ to be normal. I don't _want_ to be just like you or anyone else... I just want to be _me._ What's so bad about that?”

Theseus sighed. He reached out and clasped his hand around Newt's ankle, squeezing gently. “Nothing's wrong with that, brother.”

Newt sniffed again, and this time it didn't go unnoticed. Theseus' head snapped to Newt's face in a moment, his eyes alert, and he asked quickly, “Newt? What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” Newt lied, his voice rising a note or two, and Theseus squeezed his ankle a little tighter.

“Tell me, Newt. You know you can tell me anything....” Theseus pleaded, his brows furrowing. Newt shifted a little, then huffed and pushed himself up onto his elbow.

“Theseus...” He began, unsure what, exactly, he should say. Theseus stayed silent, keeping his eyes on Newt to show he was listening, and listening intently. Newt swallowed down his nerves as best as he could, then asked quietly, “Have you... ever had a crush? But when you're talking to them you just... cock everything up?”

Theseus blinked. Hard. And then, predictably, a sly smile spread across his brother's lips, a teasing little twinkle in his eye just visible in the moonlight. Newt instantly regretted asking, but it was much too late, and Theseus was already whispering, “Does my little brother have a little _boyfriend?_ ”

“He's _not_ my boyfriend,” Newt huffed, frowning at Theseus, but that didn't stop him at all.

“But you _want_ him to be.” Theseus taunted, gasping in delight when Newt's cheeks went red.

“Well, he's not going to be!” Newt grunted, sitting upright completely now and shoving at Theseus' shoulder, “I went and made a total fool of myself tonight!”

“ _That's_ where you've been going? To see your crush?” Theseus asked in amazement, only to follow it with a lewd chuckle and murmuring, “Wow, you have a lot more game than I thought.”

“I just said it's not like that!” Newt whined, shoving Theseus again, but his older brother was stubborn in his humor.

Their mirth was cut short, however, when a very sharp “ _Go to bed!”_ was hissed venomously from their parents' room, immediately shutting the two boys up. Theseus sighed and began to slip away from Newt's bed, but not without a promise.

“We'll talk about it tomorrow before school, okay? I want to know all about my future brother-in-law.” Newt turned absolutely red and threw his pillow at him, only for Theseus to swing the door shut in front of him to deflect it, his quiet laughter following him to his own bedroom.

Newt sighed and got up from his bed, going across the room to pick up his abused pillow. As he made his way back, he found he felt just a little bit lighter. It wasn't the whole truth. It was barely scraping the top of the iceberg, but... it felt nice sharing just a little bit of _something_ with Theseus. Even if it was just his mistakes.

Laying back down with a smile, Newt committed himself to a good rest and a much better morning.

Halfway across Manhattan, Credence stood at the kitchen counter, carefully cutting the hot dog in half and wrapping it in foil, setting it in the barren refrigerator for his sister's lunches.

 


	5. Chapter 4: Heroes After Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally got to name this one ;D

It happened again the next day.

The very last class of the day. Credence was exhausted already, having gotten little sleep from his and Animagus' little jaunt around town, not to mention the fact that his back was still sore and his muscles throbbed with every wrong twist or stretch. He never thought he would actually be one of _those_ students, but five minutes after Professor Graves began to read, Credence thought he could just... _rest_ his eyes for a little.

What felt like only seconds later, he was jolted awake when the teacher's edition of _Hamlet_ slammed down on his desk, echoing in the small room with no mercy. Credence choked on his shout, sitting up so fast that his back _burned_. Tears were already pricking in the corners of his eyes from the pain, but it seemed like Professor Graves was only going to add to it.

“Sleeping in my class, Mr. Barebone?” Professor Graves questioned disbelievingly, “This is the last straw, young man. Detention with me, after class.”

Credence sucked in a sharp breath while his classmates snickered, and he rushed to plead, “I—I can't, sir, my sisters—“

“You should have thought about that _before_ you decided a nap was more important that _Hamlet_. If you refuse detention, you can go straight to the principal instead.” Professor Graves decided, and when Credence immediately started to pack his bag and get up, he added in a rush, “And consider my class failed.”

 _That_ gave Credence pause. The boy looked absolutely pale as he stared up at Graves with wide, doe-eyes. It looked like Graves just said he was going to murder his sisters, he looked so horrified.

“I can do detention before school tomorrow,” Credence tried to bargain, but Graves scoffed and turned away, heading back to the front of the class.

“You cannot weasel your way out of this one, Credence.” He called, setting his copy of _Hamlet_ on his desk before turning around, noting that the room was terribly silent, now, and the entire class was staring at _him_ in tense uncertainty. Credence was practically sweating.

“ _Psst!”_ Came from his left, and Credence glanced at Theseus, slouching over his own desk in an attempt to hide from Graves, “I can watch your sisters for you—“

“Mr. Scamander,” Professor Graves called out, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the edge of his desk, “Since you seem so keen to help, you can tutor our sleepy delinquent.”

Theseus sat ramrod straight, his expression one of a caught child, and he looked ready to refuse. Graves already felt a smirk curling on his lips, thinking that Theseus wouldn't dare stick his neck out for someone he barely knew.

“You don't have to--” Credence began to say, but then Theseus was shrugging and bobbing his head.

“Yeah, okay. He doesn't get detention, goes to the principal's office, and I'll tutor him and get his grade back up.” He bargained, wiping the smirk from Graves' face. Even Credence looked baffled, but Theseus was already whipping out his cell phone and asked, rather dramatically, “When's a good time for you, Credence? You can even bring your sisters to my place.”

“Enough,” Graves growled, waving a hand to silence the two of them, and the rest of his muttering class, “Credence, Principal's office. Theseus, you put that damned phone away before I take it from you.”

“Yes, sir,” Theseus remarked sarcastically, tucking his phone back into his pocket while Credence slung his backpack over his shoulder and exited the class with his head ducked down.

He made it to the principal's office in what must have been record time, sitting on the chair just outside of her door impatiently while she finished whatever work she had before he came along. It was probably a scare tactic, some time to let Credence stew in his own thoughts and guilt before she called him in and punished him further. He tapped his feet restlessly against the carpeted floor, noticing the secretary glancing his way more often than not.

“Credence Barebone,” Came a voice from the door to the principal's office, and Credence nearly jumped to his feet before he slipped inside.

The Principal's office was a tasteful room, with soft carpets, sparkling furniture, two polished bookshelves lined with thick tomes of various, intellectual topics. Everything was neat and organized, right down to each individual pencil in the pencil holder on the desk. The desk that Principal Picquery was currently sitting behind, her neatly manicured fingers curled around one another on the desktop, her beautiful yet horribly intimidating face absent of any emotion other than mild distaste. She didn't even need to pretend to be superior, it oozed off of her in waves like the shadow from Obscurus' coat.

“Take a seat,” She commanded, not even gesturing to the modest chair across from her, and even though it definitely wasn't up to par with the rest of her decorum, Credence still felt hesitant to seat himself upon any furniture of hers. Still, he set his backpack by his feet and delicately sat at the edge, keeping his eyes on his lap.

“Professor Graves has already informed me of your situation.” She began, her tone cool, her voice a little melodic, “It seems he's rather worried for you.”

Credence didn't answer, although he certainly thought that Graves seemed the very opposite of worried when he threatened to fail Credence if he didn't go to detention. It seemed his silence was enough of an indicator of his doubt, however, because Principal Picquery continued to say, “It may not seem it, I agree, but Professor Graves has a hard time expressing himself, especially to those he believes he needs to keep a distance from, such as his students.”

She stretched out her fingers, lifting them to her plum-red lips, and added, “He has vehemently requested that I ask about your home life.” Credence went stiff, and he could feel her gaze harden on him, “So, Mr. Barebone... How _is_ your home life?”

Credence shifted in his seat, kept his head down, and his mouth stayed shut. Principal Picquery stayed silent as well, waiting for his answer patiently, even when it seemed obvious that it wouldn't come. The silence in the room stretched and thickened, becoming a weight on Credence's sore back, adding to the stress already swelling in the pit of his stomach, and he thought for a moment that he might vomit.

Instead of bile, however, words were heaved out.

“Ma hasn't been home in a week. I can't get a job and my sisters are starving.”

If the silence had been bad, Picquery's unwavering stare after knowing the truth was worse. Now Credence was sweating bullets and he was absolutely certain he could feel vomit stinging the back of his throat. He saw Picquery's hand reach for the phone on her desk, but Credence reacted faster than she could call.

He jerked forward and slammed the phone back down, trapping her hand under his, and he said in a rush, “Don't call CPS. You don't understand—Ma's just been working. It's hard for her, taking care of three children. It's not her fault I can't get a job, please don't call CPS.”

“Credence,” Picquery said evenly, her voice not even trembling, “Let go of my hand.”

“If you call they're going to take us away. They're going to give me pocket change and split us apart. I can't lose my sisters.” Credence continued to ramble, hoping to convince her, _begging_ for her to understand.

“Let go of my hand, Credence.” Picquery commanded again, not even raising her voice over his.

“Modesty's only ten, Madam! If she gets taken away, I--” He was breathing harder, his hand tightening on Picquery's, “I-I...” His head was pounding now, his vision going dark. He could feel the pendant hidden under his shirt growing warm, almost burning against his skin. It was tempting, he didn't have to be the same as Obscurus, he didn't have to worry about school or CPS or his damned exhaustion...

“Credence,” Her voice came again, and he felt air rush into his burning lungs as if he hadn't been breathing all his life. He met her eyes, feeling lost, feeling betrayed, but she settled him with a calm, “I'm not calling CPS.”

Blinking back tears, Credence whispered, “Thank you...”

“However, I am concerned, Credence.” She continued, keeping her hand on her phone even as Credence released her and sat back down, trembling, “Graves has was adamant in his theory that you and your sisters were being harmed, and I see now that he was right. I cannot, in good conscious, do nothing.”

Credence sucked in a deep breath, feeling his heart begin to pound already. “I will be reporting this, Credence.”

“Madam Picquery,” Credence began to beg again, but Picquery shook her head and cleared her throat.

“In the mean time, as CPS processes this case, I expect you to come to me or Professor Graves if you _ever_ need anything. No matter the time of day, or night for that matter.” She plucked something from her desk, then slid it towards Credence. Looking down at it, he saw it was an elegant black business card, with gold lettering detailing Madam Picquery's name, phone number, and email.

“My personal cell is on the back, along with Professor Graves' number and address. He insisted that I give it to you.” Picquery finished, and Credence slowly took the card, “I'm sorry I can't do more, Credence...”

Credence sniffed, staring down at the card for a long moment, then muttered under his breath, “You've done enough, Madam. May I return to class?”

Picquery sighed, but acquiesced. As Credence stood and hefted his backpack onto his shoulders, Picquery said to him, “Please understand that Percival and I have your best interests at heart, Credence.”

The boy didn't say a word and left her office soon after, crumpling the business card in his hand and stuffing it into his pocket. He walked his way back to class, even though as soon as he arrived, the students were already packing their things away and getting ready to leave.

Graves saw Credence lurking in the doorway, and he beckoned for him to step inside. Credence ducked his head and looked miffed, but relented nonetheless. He stepped inside, stopping just beside Graves as the man dismissed the rest of them. The class began to filter out, casting Credence and their Professor odd glances and sympathetic frowns, and when Theseus passed, he handed Credence a paper and said with a smile, “I'll wait for you outside. We'll get your sisters and go to my house.”

“Oh... Okay...” Credence mumbled, taking the paper in his hands and watching as he slipped away as well.

Alone again with Graves, Credence looked down at his black oxfords and muttered, “I went to the Principal's office.”

“I know you did.” Graves reassured him, putting a hand on Credence's shoulder and frowning when the man hissed in pain. He didn't ask, thankfully, since Credence really didn't have an excuse for why his entire back was torn up and bruised to the high heavens. Instead, Graves said to Credence, “I want you to know that I think you have... a lot of potential, Credence. And I think with where you are now, it's being wasted.” He moved his hand from Credence's shoulder to the top of his head, even though they were both about the same height, “I want to... make a proposal.”

Credence's brows furrowed, but he didn't lift his head to meet Graves' gaze. He could feel his eyes on him as heavily as the hand on his head, anyways. “I think it would be... a good idea if... if you were to come live with me for a while. No catch—except getting a passing grade, of course.”

Frowning more, Credence muttered coldly, “I'm sorry, Professor. I can't do that. I can't leave my sisters like that.”

“I'm not asking you to,” Graves reassured him, his eyes surveying Credence's down-turned face, seeing the way his eyes softened as realization came upon him, “My home is open to them, just as it's open to you. All I ask is that you consider it.”

Finally, Professor Graves let go of him, and he stepped away, “I'll let you think about it. Please, call me when you've decided. I can get you and your sisters at any time.”

Credence nodded briefly and slowly left the classroom. He paused a few paces away from the door and dug out the crumpled business card from his pocket, unfolding it and looking at Picquery's golden number on the front, then flipping it over to Graves' number and address.

He wondered what his sisters would think with such an offer. To leave Ma and live with Credence's Professor, a man none of them really new, including Credence himself. What did Graves get for doing this, for offering his home to some boy who doses off in the back of his class? He had to have some sort of motive, some sort of reason to take Credence and his sisters in.

Maybe he was after his sisters? No, Graves never seemed particularly interested in the female students. Maybe he was after... Credence? He snorted at his own thoughts, knowing well enough that no one would be interested in someone as plain as Credence. Graves was touchy, sure, but he seemed more like a lonely old man than a lecher.

There wasn't a chance that Graves knew that Credence was Obscurus... was there?

He was jostled out of his thoughts when a heavy arm threw itself across Credence's shoulders, erupting the bruises on his back all the while nearly deafening him with a loud, “There you are! I thought he'd keep you forever.”

Credence huffed, looking at Theseus' grinning face, but he didn't have much time to respond before Theseus was pulling him towards the school's entrance, saying happily, “Come on, let's swing by your place, get your sisters, then get to mine. I already texted my parents, they're excited to meet you.”

\-------------

Theseus swung open the door and held it open for Credence and his sisters. Chastity came in, kicked off her shoes, and sat on the couch to mess with her phone, while Modesty and Credence pulled their shoes off and stuck together, Modesty holding onto Credence's hand tightly.

“Welcome, welcome, make yourselves at home!” Theseus chimed happily, not bothering with his own shoes as he shut the door behind them and walked them into the house, “I have Netflix, some video games, uh... Boggle?”

“Pass, thanks.” Chastity remarked from the couch, watching a video on her phone.

“What's Boggle?” Modesty whispered to Credence, but her older brother only shrugged uncertainly.

“Credence and I have to study,” Theseus was saying next, “We'll just be at the kitchen table, though, so--”

“Theseus!” Came a shout from downstairs, followed by fast footsteps coming from the basement, “Theseus! Theseus!” Newt threw the door open, an excited smile on his face and George cradled in his arms, “George did the most incredible... thing... today...” He slowed down a few paces from the basement, his smile falling as he looked at each new person in the room, his heart beginning to pound.

“Oh!” Theseus said happily, smiling brightly at his little brother.

“Oh...?” Newt replied nervously, hugging George to his chest, even when the fennec fox began to squirm.

“Oh.” Credence breathed, his own heart racing for an entirely different reason. He felt Modesty's hand loosen in his own grip, but he wasn't really thinking about that. Instead, he was thinking that it was amazing, how he had lived for seventeen years and never stopped long enough to realize his innermost desires.

And apparently, that came in the form of Theseus Scamanders' little brother.

Who was currently wearing just his red plaid patterned boxers and a Ilvermorny school sweater that looked two sizes too big. His hair was a rat's nest and he had crumbs hanging off his chin, which he wiped away when he pulled George closer to his face.

“Newt, this is Credence, my Classic Literature classmate. I'll be tutoring him for a while.” Theseus introduced, ignoring the bemused snort that came from his little brother, “And this is Modesty,” He smiled at the little girl at Credence's side, who only hid herself behind Credence's body, “And over on the couch is Chastity.” She didn't even wave.

Newt looked over all three of them, his chin ducked against George's little head, and he mumbled, “...Hello.”

Credence swallowed, but he lifted a timid hand. Modesty squinted at Newt, then looked at George.

“What... what is that?” Modesty asked quietly, tugging on Credence's sleeve.

“Erm--” Credence began to stammer, not entirely sure himself, but Newt seemed to perk up at the question and stepped in to answer.

“George is a vulpes zerda—also known as a fennec fox!” He said delighted, holding George out a little more despite his whining, “Fennec foxes are the smallest fox species in the world, you know! They're native to the Sahara Desert, so they're extremely in-tuned to desert climates. These big ears, you see, are actually an evolutionary adaption to dissipate heart... and...” He looked up again, realizing everyone but Chastity was staring at him, and he felt his face color.

“Sorry...” Theseus mumbled, turning back to Credence, “He can get excited about his pets--”

“You have more pets?” Modesty asked innocently, and Newt was lighting up once again.

“I have lots! Susan, Harry, Eliza, Gary Mary and Stephen—Do you like animals, Modesty?” Newt asked, crouching down to finally release the squirming fox.

“Newt, _not_ in the house,” Theseus reminded quickly, and Newt grimaced at him before he looked back at Modesty.

“They're all in the basement... do you want to meet them?” He asked.

Modesty looked up at Credence hesitantly, and Credence barely had to consider it before he shrugged and nodded.

“What kind of animals are they?” Modesty asked, stepping away from Credence and walking up to Newt, who was trying to hold onto George while tugging on the bottom of his sweater, trying to cover up his boxers more.

“Well, Gary Mary and Stephen are all hedgehogs. Eliza is my axolotl,” His voice faded out as he and Modesty went down into the basement, the door still hanging open after them.

“Wow.” Theseus mumbled, his brows raised high, “I've never seen Newt that energetic around others before.”

“I haven't seen him around school,” Credence pointed out, looking towards Theseus who had wandered over to the kitchen table, setting up a place for them to study.

“Yeah, he doesn't go to Ilvermorny.” Theseus explained, “He doesn't go to public school, either. He's being home schooled right now, so he's taking a bunch of online classes.”

From the couch, Chastity huffed. Theseus frowned a little, offended by the judgment, so Credence helped him set up and said, “That's interesting. So... why doesn't he go to Ilvermorny? No scholarship?”

“Nah, he had a scholarship. He went for half a year, but...” Theseus petered off as he took his seat, suddenly looking uncomfortable, and ended up saying, “Some stuff happened, rumors were spread, and he ended up getting bullied out of school. He had to be dropped from Ilvermorny because he stopped showing up to class. Shame, too. He's really smart...”

“Rumors?” Credence asked curiously, pulling out his copy of _Hamlet—_ practically never opened—and set it on the tables. Theseus shifted in his seat as he did the same, the pages far more worn and the spine full of creases. He looked over at Chastity on the couch, then at the basement door, and when he was certain they weren't being listened in on, he gave in.

Leaning in so close Credence could feel his breath, Theseus said in a whisper, “He had a friend freshman year. Leta Lestrange. She was everything Newt wasn't in personality; outgoing, charismatic, and completely disloyal. They hit it off because of their fascination with exotic animals and cryptids. Newt thought he could trust this girl, so he shared a lot of secrets with her. Well... she decided to use some of those secrets against him, in the end. She started this huge rumor that Newt was--” He made a face, then followed it with a crude gesture towards his mouth that made Credence recoil and Theseus finished with a cold, “With the _science_ Professor.”

“Why?” Credence asked, his own voice quiet as well, but Theseus only shrugged.

“Who knows? Leta Lestrange was a terrible little girl. Even after the rumors were proved to be just rumors, she wouldn't let it go. She had the whole freshman class ganging up on Newt.” He finished, and Credence slowly shook his head. That poor guy. He didn't understand why someone would try to attack him that way. He seemed so kind.

Modesty's laughter drifting up from the basement was only proof to that assumption. Credence smiled a little, happy that at least she was having a good time. Both Chastity and Modesty seemed reluctant to go with him to Theseus' house, but he wouldn't let them stay at home alone for so long. He wasn't going to be like Ma.

“Alright, _Hamlet_.” Theseus sighed, bringing himself and Credence to the actual reason why they were here.

By the time Theseus' parents came home, it was late enough for dinner. While their father cooked, their mother greeted all three Barebone children, looking absolutely ecstatic to have guests in their comfy little home.

“Oh, it's so nice to meet Theseus' classmate,” She gushed, shaking Credence's hand excitedly, “And where is Newt? That boy, even when we have guests he'd rather be off playing with his pets!”

“He's doing his rounds, mom. His pets have to eat, too.” Theseus defended the absent boy, btu their mother only seemed miffed.

Modesty had popped in when she heard the front door opening and closing, but now that she met the parents, she looked up at Credence with pleading round eyes and asked, “Can I go help Newt? Please?”

“Oh, sweetie, you don't want to be down in that zoo. Newton absolutely abhors it when strangers are poking around in his things,” Mrs. Scamander chimed in. Credence frowned, not entirely sure how well this woman knew her own son, but he refused Modesty anyways.

“Go wash your hands and offer to help with dinner.” He said anyways, his voice low and gentle, “Let's not be rude, okay?”

Modesty pouted all the while, but she did as she was told and ran off for the bathroom. Credence went to tell Chastity the same thing, and she followed after Modesty silently, handing her phone off to Credence for safe keeping.

“Oh, you girls don't have to help!” Mrs. Scamander called after them.

“Please,” Credence intervened, stuffing Chastity's phone in his pockets, “We don't want to impose...”

“I assure you, you're not, young man! We love having Theseus' friends over.” She reassured him, smiling fondly at Credence before gesturing to the table, “Go have a seat, okay? Theseus will help with dinner and Newt will set the table.” After that, she stalked off towards the basement, shouting for her youngest son to come and be friendly.

When the girls returned from the bathroom, Credence gestured for them to sit with him. With a sister on either side, Credence watched as the Scamander family prepared dinner and set the table. Newt came out from his basement, closing the door tightly behind him, and began to set the table. He seemed to avoid everyone's gazes except for Modesty, who he made little jokes to and doted on as if she were his own sister.

Jealousy would have been what Credence expected to feel. They were his sisters, after all, and he did all he could to protect them. But even while Newt seemed to avoid him and Chastity altogether, seeing him spoil little Modesty made his heart warm. The guy really was a gentle-hearted soul, and Credence wondered what he ever could have done in this life or a previous life to deserve the treatment he got.

Deciding he had enough room in his heart for someone else, Credence silently vowed that he would protect him. Maybe not as himself, but definitely as Obscurus.

 


	6. Chapter 5: Shit Gets Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miraculous Ladybug? No one dies.  
> Miraculous Obscurus? People fuckin' die.

Dinner was remarkable. Credence hadn't had an actual home-cooked meal since he could remember, not to mention sitting with the whole family, parents included, at the table to eat. He watched Modesty and Chastity eat their food slowly, and he knew how difficult it was for them to refrain from tipping the whole plate into their mouths. Credence took smaller bites as well, though his intent wasn't out of table manners.

As soon as Modesty was done with her peas, Credence was scooping his own onto her plate. The minute Chastity slurped down the last of her pasta, Credence was giving her his own. Neither of them said anything about it. Chastity had learned long ago that it was futile to fight with Credence about it, and Modesty was too young to realize what exactly he was doing. She just saw the food, smiled at her brother, and continued to eat.

He also saw Newt tracking his movements from the corner of his eye, glancing his way whenever Credence scraped more food off of his plate and onto his sisters'. He didn't say a word, though, and he never met Credence's gaze. Credence wondered if Newt thought he was being rude, maybe that he didn't like the dinner, but it was the complete opposite. The small bites he had taken were amazing and the smell was absolutely mouth-watering.

Hoping to prove this to Newt and his family, Credence said in a small voice over the scrape of forks against plates, “The food is delicious, Mr. Scamander. Thank you for letting us eat with you.”

Mr. Scamander absolutely beamed, his smile almost the same as Theseus', and he replied coolly, “It's a family recipe, actually! We have quite a few famous family recipes. Maybe you and your sisters would like to visit more often, tell me which one's the best?”

Credence smiled when Modesty gasped excitedly and gave her big brother puppy eyes, saying quickly, “Can we? Can we?”

Newt got up from his seat silently, picking up his empty plate, then reaching across the table to grab Credence's now empty plate before he vanished into the kitchen. Credence muttered a thank you after him, only to be ignored once again. “I... I would love to. As long as we're not any trouble--”

“No trouble at all, Credence. You and your sisters can come over anytime.” Mrs. Scamander promised, smiling fondly at the Barebone children. Credence only smiled more while Modesty cheered a bit loudly. Chastity was even smiling, a touch of relief in her usually cold eyes. She touched Credence's shoulder for a moment, a silent gesture of gratitude, then continued to eat her meal.

“Not to mention we have a _lot_ of tutoring to do if we're going to get your grade back up,” Theseus chimed in just as Newt returned with only one plate in his hands, topped with plenty of food. Credence was impressed. He didn't think such a small guy would warrant so much food. “We've only gone over the beginning of _Hamlet,_ and I don't think Professor Graves is going to let you off so easy.”

“I wouldn't want to bother you _every_ night...” Credence gasped, and then he all but jumped when an arm suddenly appeared in front of him.

Turning to look over his shoulder, he caught Newt setting the plate down on the table. Newt flushed and looked away, then cleared his throat and took a few hurried steps back before he muttered, “I—er.... You looked hungry and...” He sucked in a breath, dipped his head, then practically ran for the basement, vanishing downstairs.

Credence looked down at the plate, covered in seconds, and he felt his face warm up. Theseus chuckled softly and said, “Sorry, Newt's a little shy.”

“A little shy!” Mrs. Scamander scoffed, but she didn't say anymore, especially when Theseus and Mr. Scamander shot her a nasty look.

Chastity nudged Credence in the arm with her elbow, catching her brother's attention, and she nodded purposefully towards his full plate. Credence smiled meekly, and he picked up his fork, looking forward to a delicious meal and a full stomach.

He jumped a second time that night when Chastity's phone began to buzz in his back pocket. He pulled it out and handed it to his sister, and was just about to dig in when Chastity sucked in a sharp breath.

“Mom's on her way home,” She said, and the other two Barebone children froze. Credence put down his fork and Modesty jumped up from her seat and ran to get her shoes.

“Credence!” Chastity whimpered, looking at her brother with wide eyes, but Credence was already digging into his pockets, pulling out as much change he had.

“Here. Take Modesty and take the bus back home,” Credence said quickly, pushing her to her feet when she didn't move fast enough, “If she's texting you now, she's probably just left, so you have a half hour.”

“Credence--” Chastity tried to argue, but Credence was walking her towards the door and nudging her into her shoes, only to stoop and help Modesty tie her laces.

“Go. The next bus should be coming in ten minutes, you have to hurry.” He urged, opening the door and pushing them out.

“Credence?” Theseus called out, having gotten up from the table as well to try and catch his classmate, “What's going on? Is everything okay?”

Credence looked back at Theseus, holding his breath. He could see Mr. and Mrs. Scamander watching him from the table in confusion, and even Newt was peering at him from the basement doorway, curiosity in his bluebell eyes. He realized how this must look to them, how rude he was being right now. He would make it up to them another day, somehow. He promised it to himself.

“Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Scamander. A-and thank you for having us over, all of you. I'm sorry for this, but we really have to go... I'll... I'll see you at school.” He said, grabbing his bag from near the door and running from the house. Chastity and Modesty would be heading to the bus stop a block away from here, but Credence didn't have enough for all three of them. He would have to make it home on foot. He could only hope he would beat his Ma there.

Theseus sighed and closed the front door, a disconcerted frown on his face. Newt stepped out from his basement completely, his arms crossed, and said what everyone else was thinking.

“Well that was weird.”

“No kidding...” Theseus agreed reluctantly, his brows furrowed. Newt wandered over to the table, picking up after the Barebones and bringing the plates to the sink.

“He barely even ate.” Newt complained, his brows furrowed as he began to wash the plates, “How often are they coming over?”

“I was going to try to convince him to come every other day, actually,” Theseus admitted, rejoining his parents at the table and looking at them, “If that's okay?”

“Perfectly okay, dear,” Ethel answered patiently, and their father set his hand over her hand.

“They could all come every damn night if they need to.” He stated, a stubborn frown on his face, “They could even share the guest bedroom if they need to.”

Theseus chuckled at that and with a shake of his head said, “Come on, dad, I'm tutoring him, not adopting him as another little brother. I already have my hands full with this one.” He gestured at Newt, who glared playfully at him and stuck out his tongue.

“I'd rather adopt that Modesty girl myself,” Newt chimed in, a little smile on his face, “She's the absolute sweetest. Even George liked her! And he never likes strangers.”

Theseus grinned and shrugged, “Well, the more Credence comes over, the more Modesty will, too.” He pointed out, a sly smirk on his face, “Besides, don't think I didn't see you making eyes at Credence all through dinner.”

Newt went positively red at that and shut off the faucet, sputtering out a heated, “I wasn't making eyes! I was observing his eating habits!”

“That's _definitely_ Newt-talk for making some _serious_ goo-goo eyes.” Theseus continued to tease, and Newt lifted a very non-threatening fist.

“You little--! I won't hesitate to sic George on you, don't even--!” Newt began to threaten, but was cut short when a shrill scream erupted from outside, followed by a cacophony of shouts and cries.

“What the hell?” Theseus spat out, getting up from the table just as Newt turned towards the window. All four of them jumped when what sounded like an explosion sounded from just outside, and Newt was spurred upstairs and to his room.

“Christ, that better not be what I think it is!” Ethel hissed out, and that made Theseus perk up.

“Is it another monster?” Theseus asked excitedly, but Ethel only frowned at her son.

“Theseus, you better not even think about it!”

“I have to go! My followers need to see what's happening in Manhattan!” Theseus declared, running up to his room himself to gather his camera and his portable charger. He didn't even pause to tell Newt where he was going or seeing if he was okay before he raced down the stairs and out the door.

It didn't matter much, however, because Newt had been long gone. The moment he reached his bedroom, he grabbed Pickett and his pocket watch and leapt out of his window as Animagus, racing through the streets to find the source of the problem.

What he came upon was something he didn't expect to see. A brilliant green hand made of pulsing light was holding a bus full of people aloft, shaking them around like ants in an ant farm. Animagus burst into a feathery beast, something capable of flight and sight, but not much else. He reached the windows of the bus to peer inside, and he nearly collapsed when two familiar faces stuck out in the midst of them.

“No,” He gasped, transforming back into a human out of pure shock. He began to fall, but he needn't worry about hitting the ground, for moments later two ghostly arms were wrapping around his chest and lowering him to the ground. Looking over his shoulder, he found Obscurus right behind him, his eyes filled with worry as he stared up at the bus.

“We need to save them,” Obscurus declared, a certain desperation in his voice that Animagus had never seen before. “I know you don't like it,” He suddenly said, looking down at Animagus, still wrapped up in his arms, “But I need you to use your superpower”

“What?” Animagus squawked, his eyes going wide, “No! Obscurus—You of all people know what that can do! Where is the enemy, even?!”

“She's over there,” Obscurus sighed, gesturing his head somewhere to the left, “The Imperius is allowing her to use some sort of... telekinesis.” He let go of him, then, and took a few steps towards the bus, still being held high in the air, “There are _children_ on that bus.”

“Which is _exactly_ why I shouldn't use my superpower!” Animagus argued, and this time, Obscurus seemed out of patience.

With a wordless yell, Obscurus ripped at his hair and shouted, “I don't have time for this! Animagus, please!”

“I'm _not_ doing it!” He continued to fight, his heart pounding in his ears, “You can't make me!”

“Fine!” Obscurus all but snarled, “Then at least get ready to catch the bus!”

“What?”

But Obscurus didn't wait any longer. Instead, he shot into the air in a cloud, zipping around the bus in a beautiful form, and then reshaped on top of it, standing widely on the roof, squatting low for balance.

“Obscurus!” Animagus shouted from the ground, cupping his hands around his mouth, “Think about what you're doing!”

Obscurus strode forward on the roof of the bus, his cloak growing as he advanced, billowing over the bus in drips, then streams, then crashing down as a waterfall. Animagus thought about transforming into a thunderbird, to try and reach Obscurus and change his mind or stop him, but Obscurus cast with purpose, shouting into the world, “ _Avada Kedavra_!”

A swell of power burst from Obscurus, the same sickening green light that formed the hand holding the bus formed a giant ball of pure malice, held over Obscurus' head with both hands. Taking another few steps forward, Obscurus lobbed the orb towards the enemy, shouting with exertion.

“ _No!_ ” Animagus cried, watching as the ball arced through the air, cutting through the wrist of the translucent green arm, and then smashing into its creator.

Her pained scream echoed through the streets of Manhattan as she was torn apart, limb by limb, piece by piece. The Imperius held within her was released, but it was caught in the maelstrom of destructive power. The evil within it was torn away, and then the rest of it as well. The glowing green hand holding the bus aloft began to disintegrate, and Animagus barely had a moment to think before the bus began to fall.

With a desire to cushion the fall, Animagus transformed into an octopus three times the size of the bus. He hit the ground with a squelch and threw his tentacles up, catching the bus in a tight grip and slowing its fall.

When the tires finally touched the ground, Animagus transformed back so he could help the people out, making sure each and every one of them was okay. Obscurus appeared soon after, watching each person exit with a touch of anxiety. Animagus watched Obscurus with a frown, trying to figure out what was going on with his ally, but was ultimately distracted when Modesty burst out from the bus doors and ran to the hero, throwing her arms around him and sobbing into his stomach.

Obscurus huffed out a breath and dropped to his knees, hugging her back just as tightly and pressing his forehead to her shoulder. Animagus watched with a baffled frown, unable to really explain what he was seeing in any way other than him thinking he might actually know who Obscurus is after all.

It wasn't until Chastity came out of the bus, however, that Animagus began to doubt his assumption.

“Modesty!” She screamed, grabbing her sobbing little sister from the hero's arms, all the while shoving and kicking at him until he was forced back against the ground, his pale eyes wide in shock, “Stay away from her, you freak!”

“Chastity, stop!” Modesty begged, but the older girl would have none of it, and she pulled Modesty behind her to protect her.

“This all happened because of you!” Chastity screeched, jutting a finger towards Obscurus all the while. She didn't care that her sister was begging her to leave him alone, she didn't care that she was attracting attention. All she cared about was venting, and she did so loudly. “If you had any actual desire to protect Manhattan and its people, you would have hunted that damned Grindelwald they keep talking about and killed _him_!”

“Miss--” Animagus tried to cut in, not realizing how bad of an idea it was. Obscurus tried to stop him, but it was too late, Chastity was already spinning around and turning her rage on him.

“And you! Don't think that just because you aren't the one that killed whoever that was that you're off the hook! You're just as terrible as he is!” She sucked in a shaking breath, desperately trying not to cry, but her bottom lip wobbled and her eyes grew wet anyways. “Can't you two just kill the actual bad guy and _go away?!”_

Two cents paid, Chastity scooped Modesty into her arms and stomped off, her face stubbornly set in anger even though tears were tracking down her cheeks. Sitting on her hip, Modesty turned her head to watch the heroes as they departed, and Obscurus slowly got back to his feet.

“Wow,” Animagus sighed, shaking his head and crossing his arms, “Usually people are crying because they're happy, not angry...”

“She was scared.” Obscurus muttered hollowly, “It's a natural reaction to be angry.”

Animagus hummed, then looked over at his partner, realizing how affected he seemed by Chastity's words. Frowning, he stepped closer to the man and put a hand on his shoulder, getting his attention, “Hey... Are... Are you okay?”

Obscurus sighed deeply, but nodded his head anyways. Animagus squeezed his arm again, trying to be reassuring, but he couldn't think of any words to spare him. Instead, he glanced away and suggested, “Maybe we should go see Grindelwald's victim...”

Another sigh, and then they were both walking away from the bus and the crowd and towards the unmoving body of a young girl. She looked no older than fifteen, dressed cutely in a floral skirt and a pure white tank-top. Her hair was braided in a fishtail, but now the blonde locks were in disarray from the battle. Her eyes were frozen open, staring into nothing, and a butterfly-shaped hole had been punched through her stomach.

They stood over her body in silence, Obscurus suffering the guilt and Animagus the regret. This was why, early on in their superhero work, they had promised each other that they would never use their superpower unless in a true life-or-death situation. Even the worst of their enemies had never been bad enough to threaten the well-being of Manhattan's citizens, or their own for that matter. Maybe even she wouldn't have harmed those in the bus. Animagus thought it unfortunate that they couldn't save her. In fact, he thought it downright unfair.

“Did you know those girls on the bus?” Animagus asked, looking at Obscurus once again, but the hero didn't raise his eyes to meet Animagus'.

“No.” He said, and Animagus felt a brief moment of disappointment as he hummed in acknowledgment.

“We should clean up.” He suggested next, and Obscurus closed his eyes and summoned forth his weapon.

“Scourgify,” He said in a sullen voice, tossing the flogger into the air, and together, they watched it twirl higher and higher, and then burst apart in a beautiful white light.

As the world around them was sorted out once again, Obscurus huffed and muttered, “I shouldn't have used my power.”

“There were people in danger.” Animagus defended him, even though he silently agreed that he shouldn't have. “You did what you thought was best.”

“But you told me not to.” Obscurus argued, meeting Animagus' eyes, “And I didn't listen. We could have figured something else out. We could have--”

“It's done.” Animagus cut in harshly, grabbing Obscurus' wrist and squeezing it to silence him, “We could have done a lot of things differently, but it's done now. And this is the result.”

Obscurus shuddered, emotion filling his empty eyes, and he whispered, “I murdered her.”

“You saved twenty people.” Animagus added, his brows pinching upwards.

“I'm a killer.”

“You're a hero.”

“I'm just like--”

“No.” Animagus didn't even let him finish that thought, grabbing his other wrist, too, “You're _nothing_ like Grindelwald. Don't even think it for a second, Obscurus.”

Stepping closer to his ally, still holding his wrists, Animagus whispered to him, “This pain you're feeling... this guilt... that's what makes you different. It _hurts_ you to kill someone. Grindelwald... He risks sacrificing normal people every day without batting an eye. You're _nothing_ like him.”

Finally, tears fell from the corners of Obscurus' eyes, clinging to his lashes and running rivulets down his cheeks. Animagus clicked his tongue and cooed, bringing him in closer and holding him to his collarbone, forcing the man to double over a bit uncomfortably in order to reach, but Obscurus didn't complain. Animagus settled his hands on the back of his head, stroking him through the hood of his cloak and whispering, “You did what you had to do. You did what was best.”

He never wanted to pull away. He wanted to keep Obscurus in his arms and comfort him until he was smiling and strong and proud again. He wanted to wipe his tears away and kiss his aching heart better, but fate had other plans. With an alarming chime, Obscurus' pendant flashed in warning. His power was close to running out, far closer than Animagus' was due to his use of his superpower. He was forced to let go of Obscurus and push at his shoulders, telling him to, “Go. It'll be alright.” Obscurus listened, though it seemed he was just as reluctant to go as Animagus was to letting him.

He ducked down an alleyway for privacy, and Animagus surveyed the area around them. The crowd had mostly dissipated by now, the frazzled people going about their business once again while others stopped for a moment to collect themselves. He could see Modesty and Chastity waiting for another bus, Chastity going through her little coin purse for change. Animagus frowned a little and dug his hand into his pocket, feeling his wad of money against his thumb.

He hurried forward before the bus could arrive. Modesty looked up at him in confusion as he neared, and Chastity turned to face him when he called out to them.

“Hey,” He said as soon as he was close enough, already noticing how Chastity gripped Modesty's wrist in her hand tightly, using herself as a wall between him and her sister, “Look, I know it must have been frightening--”

“You don't know.” Chastity spat out, narrowing her eyes at the hero, “You have magic. You'll never know what it's like to feel alone and defenseless and about to die.”

Animagus grimaced, fought the urge to reassure her that no, he _did_ know, but that wasn't what he wanted to say, and it was especially not what Chastity needed to hear right now.

“I'm sorry,” He apologized instead, looking into her eyes, “I'm sorry for putting you and your sister—and everyone else, for that matter—in danger. Please believe me when I say that we have been searching for Grindelwald with all of our might. Obscurus goes out every night to patrol the area, you know?” He heard Modesty gasp, her eyes filled with awe, but Chastity still looked unfazed, “I know we aren't perfect... and I know you don't really like us... but we're trying our best.”

Taking out his money, he handed Chastity a few bills, not even looking to see how much he was giving her. “This is for the bus ride home.”

Chastity took the bills and looked down at them, her brows raised in surprise, and when she looked back up at Animagus, she seemed... dour.

“I don't need your charity.” She said, but she clutched the money tighter to her chest, “And I don't want your apology. I want you to get the job done.”

The bus appeared soon after, and Chastity nudged Modesty into it, scowling all the while. Animagus could only watch them go, and as soon as the bus vanished down the street, he turned around and began to walk back home.

 


	7. Chapter 6: Will the Real Mary Lou Please Stand Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IM NOT LATE  
> YOU'RE LATE

OBSCURUSFAN100

YOUR NUMBER 1 OBSCURUS BLOG

  
  


BUS 209: THE ONLY BUS

YOU WON'T REGRET MISSING

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> Last night at approximately 7 P.M., the infamous Grindelwald struck Manhattan with a vengance. His most recent victim was fourteen-year-old Gloria Riddle, just a normal high school freshman with normal problems, until Grindelwald singled her out for another dastardly plot against humanity. Unfortunately for me, this battle had probably been one of the shortest fights I've ever witnessed. Not long after she manifested, Obscurus and Animagus were on the scene. Even as Gloria Riddle held an entire bus full of passengers in the air, Obscurus and Animagus brought her down without a moment's hesitation. We even got to witness the awesome strenght of Obscurus' superpower! What I wouldn't give to see him use it more often. Now, if only we got to see Animagus use his superpower...
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> But today's fight seems to have created a divide between citizens. While some people are glad that Obscurus and Animagus managed to save the day once again, a few other concerned bystanders have stopped to question their methods and their morality. They question if they really had no choice but to take the life of young Gloria Riddle, or if Obscurus rushed the battle when he used his superpower. They wonder if Obscurus was right to sacrifice one girl to save twenty-four people, or if he even has the right to make such decisions.
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> And where was Animagus when this was all decided? From my vantage point, I didn't get much of their conversation, but it definitely didn't look like Animagus was all in for Obscurus' plan. He definitely didn't offer any help other than turning into a ginormous octopus to catch the bus, but if all the shouting on his head was taken into consideration, I would say that Animagus didn't think killing her was the best thing to do.
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> Is this going to affect Animagus and Obscurus' relationship with each other? I doubt it. Take this photo I snapped after the battle. We see Animagus embracing Obscurus as they stand over the body of Grindelwald's victim in what could only be described as a truly compassionate gesture. Animagus and Obscurus may have had differing views on how to proceed with fighting Gloria Riddle, but in the end, they are still partners in this battle against evil.
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> Don't forget to like and subscribe! Only ObscurusFan100 can get you the latest Obscurus and Animagus scoops right as they happen!
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Credence stumbled through the doorway, panting. He knew he didn't make it, but it was worth a shot. The only thing he could be grateful for was that his sisters had made it in time, completely unharmed.

“Credence?” Came a soft, lilting voice, and Credence held his breath as he shut the door behind him. “Where have you been?”

“I-I'm sorry, Ma.” Credence began to apologize, toeing off his shoes before he headed further into the house, finding Mary Lou sitting on the staircase leading up to his bedroom, obviously waiting for him. “There was a study group after class and... I...” She was staring at him. Her soft face unmoving as she breathed slowly. Credence shuddered, then lowered his head, whispering an ashamed, “I'm sorry, Ma... I lost track of the time.”

She took in a long breath, then sighed. Slowly, she stood up, and Credence gritted his teeth and began to unbuckle his belt. His mother stepped around him, and though she only reached his shoulder in height, he cowered when she passed.

Leading Credence into the kitchen, now stocked full of groceries and food, Mary Lou opened the pantry and removed a box of grits from the shelf, just as Credence removed his pants and stood there in only his boxers. He watched silently as Mary Lou tore open the box and began to pour the grits onto the tiled floor, creating two thick piles. Credence felt his heart race as he watched a day's worth of food—three days—a _week—_ spill onto the floor. He didn't say a word. Neither did Mary Lou when she decided she had spilled enough.

She stepped away from the pile, stepped out of the kitchen, and Credence took her place before the pile. He waited until Mary Lou returned, Bible in hand, and he took it when she held it out to him.

Slowly, he kneeled into the grits, clenching his teeth tightly as he settled one knee, then the other into the rough dunes, already feeling the thick particles digging into his skin. He shakily opened the book, but before he could start to read, Mary Lou said in a gentle voice, “When your sisters complain about not having enough to eat, you will only have yourself to blame.”

“Ma,” Credence nearly sobbed, hoping that she would have mercy, but she silenced him with a hand.

“Don't speak,” She commanded, “The only words I want to hear coming from your mouth are His words.”

Credence bowed his head, clenching his jaw for a moment longer, and he began to read. Mary Lou stood over him for nearly twenty minutes, and when she left, she told Credence that if he stopped reading, she would have him repeat it for her in the morning.

He read dutifully, making sure his voice was loud enough for Mary Lou to hear, but not loud enough to interrupt her sleep. In the middle of the night, both Modesty and Chastity came to him, sitting with him in silence, offering him just their company. It gave him strength. It reminded him that he was doing this for them, that because of him, they had made it home in time and only he had to be punished tonight.

They went to bed when it got too late. Credence knelt alone in the kitchen, his legs gone numb, and he kept reading from the bible. He read even when he was so tired he thought he would fall over. He read even when the morning sun began to peek through the kitchen window. He read even when Mary Lou came into the kitchen and began to cook breakfast, a hearty serving of eggs, bacon, and toast for the girls and herself. The only time he stopped reading was when the doorbell rang.

Credence lifted his head as the dining room fell silent. Mary Lou cast him a single glance before Credence rushed to his feet, grabbing his neatly folded pants from the kitchen counter and slipping them back on. Chastity stood from her seat and hurried to the door, unlocking it just as Credence found his belt and started slipping it through the loops.

“Oh, good morning, Chastity,” A kind, familiar voice came from the doorway, followed by the click of short black heels. Credence held his breath, then hurried towards the front, still buckling his belt. His eyes lit up at the sight of his social worker, and even though he hadn't a moment of sleep throughout the night, he approached Ms. Goldstein with vigor.

“Credence,” Ms. Goldstein greeted gently, her dark eyes filled with a fond yet worried touch. She glanced down at Credence's hands as he finished the last tuck of his belt, then met his eyes again, a frown marring her soft face.

“Miss Tina Goldstein,” Mary Lou said airily, standing from her seat as well and moving to greet the woman, shooing Credence back towards the kitchen in the process. “Go clean up your mess, boy.”

“Yes, Ma.” Credence muttered, slipping away from the excitement and grabbing a dustpan and a hand broom to sweep up the spoiled grits. It physically pained him to dump it into the trash, but he wouldn't dare feed it to his sisters.

As he cleaned, he overheard the conversation as it moved into the dining room. Mary Lou began it by asking, “What brings you to our little home, Ms. Goldstein? Usually you ring before you show.”

“I know, Ms. Barebone, and I do apologize,” Tina replied politely, and even hearing her voice made Credence smile to himself, “But it seems an urgent matter has come up. One that needed immediate attention.” The scrape of wooden chairs against the wooden floor indicated the two taking their seats, and soon Modesty and Chastity were moving the half-empty bowls into the kitchen, Modesty still trying to shovel food in her mouth while Chastity merely began to wash.

“And what matter might that be?” Mary Lou asked, and while she may have sounded merely curious, to Credence and the girls, she sounded irritated. Modesty washed the dishes faster, but Credence crept towards the door, hoping to listen to more of their conversation.

“It seems Credence's behavior in school has concerned his Professors.” Tina answered, and Credence held his breath just as Mary Lou sucked in hers.

“His behavior?” She asked, her voice a small hiss, and Credence could already imagine her clutching her hands into fists just in her lap.

“Yes... weren't you aware? Credence had been falling asleep in class. Not to mention the bruises he's been showing up with...” Tina explained slowly, but Mary Lou was already responding sharply.

“Sleeping in class? Why... How could he?”

“I know. I was astonished as well,” Goldstein sighed, “But his Professors are not worried about his grades. They are worried about why he is so tired. They called me to see if I could provide some answers, along with help assist Credence through what must be a trying time for him.”

“I haven't the slightest clue, Porpentina,” Mary Lou huffed, and Credence glanced back at his sisters, who were also listening in. Whenever a full name was used, it was never good, “As far as I've seen, Credence has been going to be in a timely manner.”

“She hasn't been here all week!” Modesty hissed to her siblings, but both Credence and Chastity shushed her quickly before they leaned towards the door to listen once again.

“He hasn't been going out at all?” Tina asked next, a loaded question, one that Mary Lou was prepared for.

“No more than usual.” She sniffed, “He has still been going to his after-school clubs, hasn't he?”

Tina was silent for a moment, a rustling of papers the only audible noise, and then she replied, “It seems like there's no record of Credence being in any sort of school club.”

Now it was Mary Lou's turn to fall silent and gather her wits about her. Tina allowed her the time, waiting patiently for her response. “There must be something he isn't telling me, then...”

“Well, it's natural for boys his age to keep a thing or two a secret, isn't it?” Tina said pleasantly, “Has he talked to you at all? About school?”

“As far as it sounds, the only things he has told me are lies.” Mary Lour retorted, but Tina clicked her tongue.

“No, no, no, I mean about his classmates, Ms. Barebone. Perhaps he's been... preoccupied?” Tina suggested next. Chastity rose her brows at Credence, who's face had turn a bright shade of red at the implication.

“Credence?” Chastity whispered, but her brother was already shaking his head desperately.

“I would never! You know I wouldn't leave you and Modesty at home alone, not even for a second!” He whispered back, eyes wide.

“If you are suggesting that my son has been fooling around with... with some _girl_ \--”

“I'm implying nothing of the sort!” Tina replied, sounding offended, “What I mean to say is, perhaps the issue is another classmate in school? He hasn't mentioned being bullied at all?”

Mary Lou sniffed, and replied coldly, “He rarely talks to me of such things. I couldn't tell you.”

Tina hummed, the sound of her pen scratching against paper loud in the silence, until she finally said, “Well, thank you for speaking with me today.”

“It's my pleasure. It is only a shame to see you go so soon--” Mary Lou began to bid her goodbye, but it sounded like Tina was already standing and walking across the room.

“Would you mind all too much if I spoke with the children? It would only take a minute.” Tina asked next, but it was hardly even a question. When Mary Lou stuttered out a half-response, Tina merely said, “Good. I'll speak with Modesty first. Where did she run off to?”

Modesty gasped and froze up in the middle of the kitchen, looking to her older siblings for help. Both Chastity and Credence immediately tried to soothe her, whispering their reassurances and their advice, but Modesty barely got to hear a word before Tina was stepping into the kitchen, notepad in hand and a gentle smile on her face.

“Ah, Modesty. Hello. I don't think we've met properly just yet, have we?” Tina asked as she approached, delicately squatting down so she could look up into the young girl's eyes. Modesty stared back silently, but she jerkily shook her head no. “Well, my name is Porpentina Goldstein. I know your sister and your brother very well. I've worked with them since they were young. Just as young as you, actually.”

Modesty smiled a little, glancing up at her siblings as she pictured them as children, but turned back to Tina when she continued to say, “Would you mind if we went to your bedroom and talked?” That deer-in-headlights look came back on Modesty's face, and Tina gave a light laugh before she assured her, “We don't have to talk about anything in particular. Why don't you tell me how school's been? Or about your favorite toys?”

Slowly relaxing, Modesty looked to her siblings once more. When both Chastity and Credence were nodding in approval, Modesty swallowed back her fear and slowly nodded as well. Tina smiled once more, whispered, “Fantastic. Lead the way.” and then stood, allowing Modesty to lead Tina through the first floor of the house and towards her room.

The door closed behind them, and moments later, Mary Lou appeared with a scowl on her face.

“Get to your rooms. Both of you.” She instructed coolly, giving Credence an extra shove when he didn't move fast enough. “We'll discuss this 'poor behavior' later, boy.”

“Yes, Ma.” Credence mumbled, parting with Chastity as he took the stairs towards the attic.

He waited in his room for a long while. He thought perhaps an hour had passed, and all he had done was pace, examine the wounds on his knees, and tidy up his bed a little. Tina had gone from Modesty to Chastity and finally to Credence, arriving at his door with a light tap on his door.

“Credence?” She called out as she opened the door and stepped inside, and Credence turned to greet her, a smile on his face.

“Ms. Goldstein,” He breathed, feeling as if a weight lifted from his shoulders. Tina smiled back at him and closed the door behind her, then set her notepad and pen down on his desk before she took a seat upon his bed. Credence hesitated before her, unsure if he should sit as well, but when she patted the empty spot beside her, he let out a breath of relief and quickly took his seat.

As he settled down on the bed, Tina turned to Credence and surveyed him, really taking in his appearance. The bruise on his cheek was still fading, and he sat hunched over from when he was thrown into the car. She reached out her hand, frowning when Credence immediately froze, and she gently touched her fingers to his cheek, running them lightly over the pale bruise. Credence tilted his head into her touch, his eyes attempting to flutter shut, but he forced them to stay open, just so he could see the worried look in her eyes, the motherly concern.

“Credence...” She breathed, looking into his eyes desperately, trying to figure him out, “What's happened to you?”

Credence frowned at that and nervously looking away, but Tina urged him to look back up with just the slightest pressure to his chin, and they met gazes once again.

“Ma's been working hard, Ms. Goldstein,” Credence whispered to her, a sort of determination in his eyes, “Late nights and early mornings, Ms. Goldstein. She does all she can to keep food on our plates.”

Tina smiled, a pitying little thing, and then said, “I didn't ask what's happened to her. I asked about you, Credence. How are you getting all of these injuries?”

“I-It's just a bruise, ma'am--” Credence tried to defend, but Tina tutted and pulled her hand away.

“And your back?” She asked, which only made Credence stiffen up more.

“How do you--”

“And your knees?” She then gestured to his pants, the black cloth stained darker with the blood that pebbled from broken skin.

Credence fell silent again, bowing his head and clenching his hands into fists. Tina only looked over him, waiting for something, anything, but when it was obvious he wouldn't, Tina decided to take charge once again.

Clearing her throat, Tina sat up straighter and said in a light voice, “After what I've seen today, I have to say, I am not impressed with Ms. Barebone.”

“Ms. Goldstein--”

“The things your sisters have told me paired with the injuries on your person have painted a rather unfortunate tale.”

“No, wait, please--”

“I think it may be best if we consider removing you and your sisters from Mary Lou Barebone's custody as soon as we are able.

“ _Stop_!” Credence yelled, jumping to his feet in one swift motion. Tina flinched back, staring up at Credence with wide eyes, but the boy continued to yell, “You can't do this! I won't let you take them from me!”

“Credence,” Tina tried to calm him, but he wouldn't have a second of it.

“Th-they're _my_ sisters! I've taken care of them all this time— _Me!_ I've all they got! You can't take them from me! I won't let you!”

“Then what would you rather I do? Let them stay here and starve? Let _you_ suffer in order to protect them?” Tina argued back, but her voice was only stern, never loud, and she kept her seat on his bed. “Just as I could not let _you_ suffer, I will not let them.”

Her voice grew gentle again, and she gave him a pleading stare as she said, “They aren't safe here, Credence. I know you love them, so please... help me protect them.”

Credence was breathing hard, his eyes tinged red as tears swelled in the corners. He was gritting his teeth and squeezing his hands into fists. He didn't want this... He didn't want to be torn away from his sisters. He promised them he would protect them. What would that make him if he broke his promise?

And if he forced them to stay here with himself and Mary Lou, wouldn't he be doing the exact same thing? What would they forgive him for in the end, letting Tina take them away and find them a good home, or letting Credence keep them close, but force them to suffer in silence?

His options made his chest and head hurt. He didn't want to make this choice, to have this responsibility. They would hate him either way, he knew it. They would despise him silently for making them stay, or scream and kick and fight him furiously for letting them go. How was he even supposed to make such a decision? He couldn't very well flip a coin for a matter this important.

He turned away from Tina, fat tears falling down his face, and Tina let out a gentle sigh.

“Please, Credence... Think about it. Think really hard. What would you want to be done if you were in their shoes?” Tina pleaded, moving to the edge of the bed, “What would I do in this situation?” She asked, and Credence ran his hands through his hair, his shoulders hunched.

“What would Obscurus do?”

Credence went stock-still, his mind and breath freezing. What would Obscurus do? But Credence and Obscurus were one and the same. How could the same person have two different opinions?

But... what _would_ Obscurus do? Credence closed his eyes and pictured him standing just across from him, separate but still a part of him. They both loved Modesty and Chastity, loved them so much they would kill for them. Credence didn't want a thing to hurt them. Obscurus had vowed to protect them with his life.

Their sisters' safety was their top priority. If they had to be torn apart and dragged to Hell and back for the girls, they would do it without hesitation. If Credence had to choose between Obscurus and his sisters, he would rip out a piece of himself just for them. And weren't they just another piece of himself?

Credence didn't want them to leave. Obscurus would let them go and protect them from afar. It would be hard, he knew. It would be painful, that was definite. But he would do it, just for them. He would let them hate him because he loved them too much to see them like this.

Turning back to Tina slowly, Credence gave just the barest of nods, and Tina immediately relaxed. “But... But I want to know everything,” Credence demanded, tears blurring his vision, “I want to know their foster parents, I want to know who adopts them. I want to know if they fall or scrape a knee o-or if they even have a nightmare!”

“You'll know.” Tina promised him, finally getting up from the bed and approaching him, running her fingers through his hair, then setting his forehead against her shoulder, “I'll make sure you know.”

 


	8. Chapter 7: Golden Goldstein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LATE AGAIN I SEE

Newt was laying on his stomach on his bed, pocket watch in hand. He was surveying the burnished gold finish, running his fingers over the lead and vine engravings dancing on the edges of its front, and when he pressed the small button on the side to open it, he was met with a clock unlike any other. It had six hands connected at the center, each depicting a symbol representing what Newt could only assume the heroes wielding Miraculouses. It was with this watch that Newt could evaluate his ally and himself. As it read now, Obscurus and Animagus' symbols were stopped under the indicator reading 'resting.'

A majority of the symbols were stuck pointing southward, to 'asleep,' which Newt could only guess meant that they were not being carried by anyone, especially since they never moved from that point. The only other symbol in his pocket watch that did move was one depicting a scorpion with red eyes, and it was always going from 'resting' to 'active.'

There were three other indicators that Newt had never seen any hand move to, and he feared the day it would happen. One read 'destroyed,' and Newt could only hope that purely meant the Miraculous and not the wearer. Another read 'compromised,' but Newt couldn't even imagine what that could mean. And the last, pointing northward, simply read 'lost.'

He had watched as the hands bearing his and Obscurus' symbols changed from resting to active and back again. He watched the scorpion symbol tick between the two of its own accord as well, though it didn't always sync with his and Obscurus' transformations. It was one of the only reasons why he didn't think it represented Grindelwald. He couldn't think of who it might be, or who Grindelwald was in his pocket watch and why he didn't move like the others, but he was positive it wasn't him.

He stroked his thumb against the glass encasing the clock, wondering what Obscurus would be doing right now, imagining who he might be like when he wasn't a hero. He wondered if he would ever meet him, outside of their work. He wondered if he would know once he did. He was certain he would, he liked to think of himself as rather observant.

“Newt!” He heard his mother call from downstairs, and he tucked the pocket watch under his pillow before he pushed himself up.

“Coming!” He called back, grabbing his robes and pulling it over his shoulders. He pushed open his bedroom door and hurried downstairs, pausing in the living room where he found his mother and a golden-haired woman sitting on the couch, cups of tea in their hands. The woman looked up at Newt and smiled, her eyes endlessly kind.

“Newt,” His mother said, setting her cup down on the coffee table and standing, “This is Ms. Goldstein.”

“I know you,” Newt spoke up, taking a few steps into the room, “You're a counselor at Ilvermorny, aren't you?”

“I am,” Ms. Goldstein replied, taking a delicate sip of her tea before setting it down beside his mother's cup. She stood herself, straightening out her seashell pink pencil skirt and then stepping around the couch to extend her hand, “Mrs. Scamander called. She seemed rather worried about you, sweetie.”

Newt glanced awkwardly at her hand, but he took it and gave it a meek shake before quickly letting go, “She doesn't need to be,” He muttered, looking at his mother with a frown, “I've been doing fine.”

“Oh, I know. I took a look at your records—Miami University _and_ the University of California? Doing more than fine, wouldn't you say?” She smiled, holding herself gracefully as she spoke.

“Then why are you here?” Newt asked, and his mother shot him an incredulous look.

“Newton!” She hissed, wide-eyed, “Don't be rude!”

“Oh, it's alright, Mrs. Scamander, I get much worse from other kids.” Ms. Goldstein assured her, barely casting her a glance before she was looking back at Newt, “Nonetheless, your mother has asked I come and speak to you, so here I am. Shall we?” She lifted a hand towards the stairs, gesturing for Newt to take the lead.

Casting his mother one last annoyed look, Newt shrugged and headed back for the stairs. He could hear the click of Ms. Goldstein's pink heels following behind. They made it up the stairs and into Newt's bedroom and Newt settled in the center of his bed, sitting cross-legged and leaving no room for his guest. Ms. Goldstein doesn't seem to mind, however, and she merely leaned her hip against Newt's desk.

“How has it been, Newt? Learning at home?” She asked, her voice light and airy, “You are obviously learning a lot. But is it enough for you?”

“I love it.” Newt retorted, shaking his head, “It's the best decision I've made in my life.”

Ms. Goldstein smiled, and mumbled, “Yes, for such a short life, I guess it would feel that way.”

Newt stayed silent now, and Ms. Goldstein just watched him. It was silent and a little awkward, and Newt wondered if she was planning something. He shifted around on his bed, unsettled. Ms. Goldstein only tilted her head.

“Do you have many friends, Newt?” She asked, and Newt's brows lifted a fraction.

“Loads. All my animals downstairs are my friends. My brother Theseus is my friend.” Newt answered quickly, and Ms. Goldstein gave him a smile, a genuine smile.

“That's good. So you don't ever feel lonely?” She asked next, and this time, Newt's eyebrows furrowed.

“Never...” He answered, more hesitantly than last time, “I mean... not usually... But everyone gets lonely sometimes.”

“Yes, that's true.” Ms. Goldstein smiled, tilting her head the other way, “But do you have anyone you can talk to about it? When you do get lonely?”

Newt lowered his gaze and pulled his knees up to his chest. Setting his arms around them, he slowly shook his head. This time, Ms. Scamander hummed.

“I know your mother's views on you being home schooled.” She told him, stepped away from the desk and dropping her arms by her sides, “I know she called me to speak to you because she wanted me to convince you to come back to Ilvermorny. I agree with her, that it might be a good idea for you to be around your peers once again.” Newt bristled at her confession, and opened his mouth, prepared to argue, when Ms. Goldstein added, “However, I understand that you are still not ready to face your bully.”

She walked closer to him, folding her hands over her lap and continuing, “So I'd like to make a proposition. A middle-ground, if you will.”

Newt glanced up at her, scooting back on his bed when he realized how close she was already. He didn't say anything to her, but she went on nonetheless, “Stay in Manhattan for college, and I'll say you've decided to join an after-school activity to be with your peers.”

Looking up at her in confusion, Newt met her gaze and asked, “Why do you want me to stay in Manhattan?”

Ms. Goldstein smiled and said softly, “Manhattan is a lively place, Newton Scamander. It would be a shame if anything were to happen while you were away, don't you think?”

Newt narrowed his eyes, just the slightest bit, then muttered, “I'm sure Obscurus and Animagus can keep it safe.”

Ms. Goldstein gave a soft giggle, glanced towards Newt's pillow, then brushed her hair behind her ear, revealing just a sparkle of her earring, “I am, too.”

\----------------

Three weeks was all they had left together, and Credence had to spend the vast majority at school. He was much more awake in class than he had been for the last week and a half, but his attention was completely gone. His mind was on Chastity and Modesty instead, worried about what might happen to them once they were out of his care. Wondering if they would be better off living with someone else who could actually provide for them. He just hoped they weren't torn apart from each other, as well. He knew Modesty and Chastity fought, but he knew Chastity loved Modesty all the same.

His mind wandered until the end of his last class, and he only came back to himself when the bell rang, releasing the students for the day. Credence watched everyone clear out, chatting amongst themselves happily, and he felt jealous. How could they enjoy life when Credence's world was crumbling around his ears.

“Mr. Barebone,” Professor Graves called, and Credence turned his gaze to him, slow and irritated. The Professor was standing just before his desk, one hand settled on the wood and the other tucked into his pocket. His expression was stern, but his eyes were dripping with concern, and it made Credence sick.

“My sisters are being taken away.” Credence told him, his voice low and venomous, “They're being taken and I'm being kicked out.”

“You can still live with me.” Graves offered, but Credence was tired of his offer, and he slammed his fists down on his desk, getting to his feet so fast the seat toppled over.

He grabbed his backpack and shoved past Professor Graves, his teeth gritting hard as he stormed out of the room. He ignored Graves even as he called after him, shoved past a few other students, then slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Throwing his bag onto the ground by the sink, Credence grabbed the nearest sink and leaned heavily against it. He tried to regulate his breathing, tried to reign in his anger, but it was all bubbling underneath his skin, threatening to burst.

The Miraculous was hot against his chest, burning his skin and choking him, so he grabbed the necklace and yanked it off of his head, throwing it against the bathroom wall with a yell. What was the point in having this power if he couldn't even keep his family together? And without them, what was the point in being himself in the end?

He paced the bathroom, huffing and muttering to himself. He kicked one of the cubicle doors in and yelled. He pulled at his own hair and tried for a moment to rip the sink from the wall, only to give up and drop to his knees in front of the Miraculous.

Looking down at the cursed thing, Credence wondered why he had been chosen to wield it. Why it had been slipped into his bag three years ago. How he had been picked out from the masses to become Obscurus.

“What am I doing...?” He sobbed, picking up the pendant and clutching it to his chest, “What am I doing?”

A smooth touch against his cheek. A light weight on his shoulder. A seductive whisper in his ear.

Credence sucked in a slow breath, then slipped the necklace back on. A flutter of wings brushed his neck, then faded, and his Miraculous pulsed, the metal pendant dripping in black.

 


	9. Chapter 8: Obscurus Pulls Some Shady Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> phew! finally one on time!

He heard it first on the news.

His mother was off for the day and she was watching it in the living room. Newt had wandered down not long after three in the afternoon with a handful of dishes, dressed in his usual boxers, t-shirt, and robe outfit. He only heard it in the background, the running water muffling the words. Soon after he was done and drying the dishes, he could hear the reporter saying in a stern voice, “It's chaos in the heart of Manhattan as what looks like _Obscurus_ razes the streets.”

Newt stepped out of the kitchen, rag in one hand and a bowl in the other, and he watched the TV over his mother's shoulder, frowning when the cameras showed the destruction wrought. “It has only been thirty minutes into the attack and already thirty citizens are injured, two buildings collapsed, and dozens of cars wrecked. Police have cut off travel down the damaged streets as they attempt to clear the debris, but Obscurus is moving faster than they can work.”

Newt dropped the bowl when they showed a video, filled with people screaming in fear as they ran from Obscurus' smokey form tumbling and crashing around, and then his own brother's voice was whispering, “Where's Animagus?”

“Oh, God.” Ethel gasped, and Newt turned away and ran up the stairs, the sound of the news reporter following him up.

“This video is currently being streamed live on a blog run by ObscurusFan100, a dedicated hero fanatic with over hundreds of videos and pictures of Manhattan's young protectors. Police have been following this stream as they follow Obscurus through the city.”

Newt threw his bedroom door open and grabbed the pocket watch from under his pillow, transforming just as he was throwing his bedroom window open. He leapt from the windowsill, transforming into a thunderbird and taking to the sky. The higher he climbed, the larger the view he had of his city, and the more damage he found.

Fires had been started in the distance. Buildings were crumbling and torn apart, deep gash marks buried in the brick and stone. Roads were cracked down the middle, asphalt scattered in piles. People were running away from the worst of it, some screaming, some limping, some carrying others. Houses and buildings were being evacuated, police working quickly to keep everyone alive. The city was alive with screams, sirens, and the sound of the city falling.

Animagus circled the destruction, his heart breaking at what he saw. He couldn't believe this was Obscurus. He had to have been chasing someone or something, had to have been doing all of this for a reason. But they had never caused such havoc before, not in the three years they've been doing this...

When he spotted Obscurus, it was like finding a wild animal, cornered and scared. He was smoke and he was attacking, smashing into windows and tearing up the roads, leaving behind hundreds of little scratch marks in only seconds. Animagus was trying to figure out the best way to approach when a familiar figure in the alleyway caught his attention. The very same alleyway that Obscurus was currently crashing towards.

Pulling in his wings, Animagus shot straight down towards his brother, letting out a loud, warning screech when he drew close enough.

Theseus looked up with wide eyes, his camera following his gaze, and Obscurus crept even closer, flipping over a nearby car and smashing into the building opposite of the older Scamander. Animagus threw out his wings when he was close enough to the ground, and when he slowed enough not to hurt himself, he transformed into a human and grabbed Theseus by his shirt collar, shoving him further into the alleyway.

“Are you crazy?” He yelled, his eyes just as wide and shocked as Theseus', “Are you trying to get killed?! Go home!”

“Animagus!” Theseus gasped instead, looking absolutely awed, “P-Please, uh, I'm recording this for my fans--”

“You're putting yourself in danger for no good reason. Go. Home.” Animagus ordered again, flinching when Obscurus crashed into another car, its alarm going crazy until he crashed into it again and silenced it. “I mean it!”

“What do you think is going on with Obscurus?” Theseus asked instead, training his camera of Animagus, “Has Grindelwald gotten to him? Is he going dark-side? How can we be so sure you won't be following in his footsteps?”

Animagus' face went slack at the questions, and he threw out his arms before he said, “Really. Really?” He shook his head and grabbed Theseus' camera, yanking it away from his hands, “Dark-side. Ridiculous.” He turned away from Theseus and ran towards the mouth of the alleyway, tossing the camera into the trash bin beside him, though he made sure not to break it. Just as he was exiting the alley, he called out over his shoulder, “Go home!”

He entered the street with a determined step, immediately spotting Obscurus circling in the air above him, expanding until he was flat and splayed across the length of the street, eclipsing the sun above for a long minute before he snapped inwards again, compressed into a tight black ball of darkness and dragging with him the walls and windows he was touching. Animagus ducked his head and covered it with his arms as glass rained down upon him, but he was lucky to come away with only cuts across his arms.

The ball was jerking and bubbling, as if Obscurus were fighting against himself inside there, and he slowly sank towards the street. Animagus peeked up at him, then lowered his arms and began to walk towards Obscurus, slowly but making himself obvious. The closer he came and the further down Obscurus floated, the calmer he seemed to become, until he was nothing more than a simmering bubble of smoke crackling from him like a black fire.

“Obscurus,” Animagus said to him, his voice not too loud, but enough to be heard. Not too hard, but filled with control. “You know me, Obscurus. You know I'm not here to hurt you. You know I'm here to help. But you have to stop this.”

The simmering grew to bubbling again, and Animagus took a wary few steps back, holding up his hands in a show of submission. Obscurus lashed out, a few tendrils of black slamming into the ground on either side of him before they pulled back again, and Animagus did all he could not to flinch. He stood his ground and gritted his teeth, and when Obscurus was back to simmering, Animagus swallowed down his fear and said, “This isn't you, Obscurus... Please, just... come out from there. Come out from there and we can talk...”

Obscurus wavered, the ball expanding just the slightest bit, but then it began to lower again, and soon it was touching the ground. One limb came extending from the ball, then another, then another, until it was Obscurus on the ground, holding himself up on his hands and knees, his shawl billowing around him like a shadowy curtain. Animagus pulled in a slow breath, then lowered himself to his knees, making sure all of his movements were slow and unsurprising. Obscurus peered up at him warily, and when they made eye contact, Animagus was sure to keep it.

“Obscurus...” Animagus said, still holding up his hands, “Can I come over to you?”

Obscurus began to tremble, and Animagus licked his lips and asked again, “Can I come over?”

A tear fell from his eyes, his bottom lip trembled, and he broke eye contact to dip his head closer to the ground. Animagus didn't move. He waited, waited for approval, for consent, but Obscurus never gave it. Instead, a curl of sickeningly green magic overcame him, staining his cloak and tinting his eyes, and he let out a pained cry before he pushed himself to his feet.

“ _Avada Keda-_ -” Obscurus began to shout, and Animagus fell backwards and threw out his arms, shouting faster than Obscurus could:

“ _Evanesco_!”

Obscurus shouted when the street burst with black, blustery winds pulling at his shawl and clothes, yanking him to and fro with their strength. The whole sun was blotted out within this chaos, and Obscurus stumbled through the darkness, throwing out his hands to try and find his way through. He tripped over hidden rubble, bumped into street signs and toppled cars. He gasped and whipped around whenever he heard a whisper of a noise.

“ _Revelio_.” Animagus whispered, and the black winds coalesced, creating shapes and figures, mimicking sounds and the sensation of touch. Animagus watched it all from the darkness, the gift of his Miraculous allowing him to see as if it were as bright as day. He took the deepest fears in Obscurus and made them real, made them tangible, made them dangerous. Animagus wouldn't see a second of it, not what Obscurus saw, but he could see his ally, and he could see the damage he would obtain.

And what Obscurus saw was truly a nightmare.

“Credence,” Modesty was sobbing for him, a tall figure standing behind her without a face or any distinctive features, but Obscurus knew it was Grindelwald. He held Modesty by the shoulder and was pressing a knife to her neck, and then a gun to her head, and then the gun at him and a warped, echoing voice warned him not to come any closer.

Obscurus staggered backwards, his heart hammering in his chest, and he began to beg him to let her go when Modesty turned into Chastity, still sobbing and begging Credence for help. A nagging whisper began to grow in the back of Obscurus' head, the phantom touches of hands grabbing at his wrists, pulling his hair, slapping him across his skull.

He tried to push away his nonexistent attackers all the while attempting to stumble closer to his sister, flashing back and forth between Chastity and Modesty, the weapon in Grindelwald's hands changing from gun to knife to metal chain to a leather belt. He could hear his sisters screaming around him, could feel the dig of grits in his knees, the aching stab of hunger in the pit of his stomach.

He stumbled over rubble, but when he looked down, he saw the corpses of his sisters, starved, beaten, torn from limb to limb, beheaded, gutted, burned stabbed choked bleeding out electrocuted dead dead dead--

Obscurus screamed. He dropped to his knees and wailed until he couldn't make a sound. He sobbed until his lungs hurt. He cried until his reason caught up with him. And when he understood what was happening, he became angry.

“Animagus,” Obscurus whispered, breathing hard, shaking like a leaf, and he had to push himself to his feet twice before he could stay standing. “Animagus! You traitor!”

Animagus kept to the shadows. He didn't move or breathe, he merely kept to the darkness within Obscurus' mind, within Animagus' Miraculous, but he was running out of time. The pocket watch was flashing at him, the leaves engraved on the edges falling away one by one. He was expending too much power, and Obscurus hadn't broken down yet. It was amazing and worrying at the same time. He had seen stronger men kill themselves over what they'd seen.

With a hesitant groan, Animagus pulled his power back, absorbing the darkness into his pocket watch once again, only to collapse against the nearby building wall for support. Obscurus flinched back from the sudden light, but when his eyes adjusted, he zeroed in right on Animagus. When he began to march forward, Animagus stumbled backwards and held up his hands.

“Obscurus, wait--”

“You used your superpower on me!” He shouted, summoning forth his flogger with a swipe of his arm, and Animagus jerked backwards faster, his eyes wide. His heel kicked something, sending it skittering back into the alley, and when he glanced behind, he found Theseus crumpled to the ground, curled up in the fetal position and muttering under his breath. He must have gotten caught in Animagus' superpower...

He couldn't worry about that right now. He was out of Obscurus' view, and Animagus needed to keep it that way.

“You were going to use yours on me!” Animagus argued, “I was protecting myself!”

“You tried to kill me!” Obscurus yelled, whipping his flogger in front of him, and even though they were yards away from each other, Animagus was struck across his chest as if he had been two feet in front of him. Crying out in pain, Animagus stumbled over his feet and dropped on his backside. Putting a hand to his stomach, he found himself bleeding, and he hissed in pain before he realized Obscurus was still advancing.

Unable to get to his feet fast enough, Animagus began to scramble backwards, his eyes wide and vulnerable, and he could hear his pocket watch chiming in warning once again. “I didn't try to kill you! I'd never kill you!” He claimed, but it didn't seem to sway his partner.

Obscurus swiped the flogger in front of him again with a yell, and Animagus was thrown onto his stomach, face and neck bleeding with fresh cuts. Grunting in pain, Animagus tried to crawl away from Obscurus, digging his fingers into the gravel to pull him further, until another flurry of sharp cuts sliced along his back.

Screaming now, Animagus rolled onto his side, jolting in pain as blood pooled beneath him. Obscurus was standing over him now, and he shoved Animagus onto his back with his foot, trapping him on the ground and nearly crushing his lungs while he was at it. Animagus coughed and hacked, then grabbed at Obscurus' ankle with both hands, trying desperately to push him off. Obscurus was as still as a stone, however, and he smirked cruelly down at his ally.

“You'll regret what you've done to me.” Obscurus growled, vanishing his flogger and holding out his empty hands, “And when I'm done with you, I'll make everyone who turned their backs on me pay.”

“Obscurus--!” Animagus begged, but the young hero added more weight to the foot on Animagus' chest, watching as Animagus wheezed and squirmed. Still, he managed to force in enough of a breath to gasp out, “Please--!”

“You were never my friend.” Obscurus hissed, and Animagus let a few fearful tears fall from his eyes, rolling down the sides of his face. Obscurus held his hands higher, his green-tinted eyes growing wide and ruthless, and he began to summon his power, yelling out, “ _Avada Ke--!”_

Animagus shouted when his pocket watch let out a high-pitched trilling, and before he knew it, he was being engulfed in a white light. He struggled to stay as Animagus, tried to cling to his superhero persona with a tight fist, but it slipped out of his fingers like running water. The light began to fade, leaving behind a scared, crying Newt, dressed in his toast-and-bacon patterned boxers, his faded red t-shirt, and a forest green bathrobe, untied and torn up from Obscurus' flogger. Obscurus stared down at Newt with wide eyes, his hands still raised into the air, but he didn't utter another word.

Newt was hyperventilating as best as he could, trying to pull in as much air as he could with Obscurus' heavy foot on his chest, and he looked back up at the hero in terror, still gripping his ankle. Obscurus had stopped when he changed back. Maybe he could still save himself and his partner.

Squeezing his ankle, Newt whispered, “Please... you need to stop...” and this time, Obscurus lowered his hands. The weight on Newt's chest lightened until he was pulling his foot away entirely, stumbling backwards in horror.

“Newt? You...” Obscurus breathed, and Newt's eyes widened just a little, pressing a hand to the bleeding wound on his neck that luckily seemed to have missed his artery entirely.

“You know me?” Newt asked, but Obscurus didn't stay to respond. The troubled hero began to shake his head, running his fingers through his jet-black hair, and then dissolving into his gaseous form, twisting into the air and out of Newt's peripherals in moments.

Newt sighed, then swallowed thickly and tried to push himself to his feet, even though his muscles were protesting loudly. He picked up his pocket watch from the ground and stuffed it into his pocket, and when he looked up, his eyes wandered to the video camera kicked to the corner of the alleyway, pointing directly at him, and he felt his heart stop.

“No...” Newt breathed, running forward and dropping back down to his knees. He picked up the camera and turned it around, then immediately sighed in relief. The lens had been cracked when he kicked it, and it looked like the battery had run out of power anyways. Dropping the camera into his lap, Newt tilted his head back and laughed weakly, glad that he hadn't just been exposed to all of Manhattan. He could handle Obscurus knowing. He could handle his partner being aware of his less appealing side.

“Newt?” Came a voice from deeper in the alleyway, and Newt felt himself sober up. He closed his eyes and cursed under his breath, realizing he had forgotten about his brother.

“Theseus...” Newt responded, dropping his head first, then turned to look at the older Scamander, still laying on the gravel in the alleyway, though he looked a little less terrified than before. Sniffing, he wondered if he could get by with a small lie, and he told his brother, “Mom was worried. Your live stream was on the news. She sent me to look for you.”

Theseus blinked slowly a few times, looking around the alleyway, then pushing himself up until he was sitting, “She did?”

Smiling, Newt nodded silently. Good, he thought. Theseus hadn't seen it all happen. He couldn't live with himself if--

“Or did she send Animagus to look for me?”

Newt looked at his brother, his smile falling completely, and he didn't respond. Theseus stared right back, pushing himself to his feet and brushing himself off, but he still looked visibly shaken. Newt watched as he slowly walked over, and when Theseus was standing over him, Newt lowered his head.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you.” He mumbled. Theseus didn't reply. He was looking at the camera in Newt's lap.

“How much recorded?” He asked, and Newt swallowed thickly before he shook his head.

“Not much, I don't think. The lens is broken and the battery is dead and....” He sucked in a shuddering breath, then closed his eyes and said again, “Not much.”

Theseus sniffed, then crouched down and picked up the camera. He popped the side open, pulled out the SD card, then dropped it to the floor and crushed it under his heel. Newt flinched, then looked up at Theseus in shock, but his older brother only smiled down at him.

“Now nothing's been recorded.” He told Newt.

“But... it was being streamed...”

“Ah, I shut it off after you confronted me.” Theseus admitted, shrugging his shoulders, “I was really going to go home but... The fight was too interesting.”

“You got caught in my _Evanesco_ and _revelio_. Do you know how dangerous--?” Newt began to lecture, but Theseus rolled his eyes and grabbed Newt by the arms, pulling him to his feet as well.

“You don't get to tell me what's dangerous.” He poked Newt in the chest, purposefully avoiding the scrapes against his skin, then added, “Especially after today. You took on Obscurus yourself! Are you insane?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” Newt huffed, a small smile tugging at his lips as he pushed Theseus back, only to wince when he tugged at his cuts. Theseus grew serious immediately and gently put his hands on Newt's arms, steadying him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, meeting Newt's eyes, and his little brother silently nodded, though the pained twinge in his expression told otherwise.

“Just a little scratched up, is all...” Newt mumbled, and Theseus shook his head and began to pull off his jacket, wrapping it around his little brother's shoulders before he slung his arm around his shoulder and lead him out of the alleyway.

“What are we going to tell mom?” Theseus asked, and Newt chuckled lightly.

“Nothing. I've been sneaking in and out of the house for three years, Thees. I'm already good at this.”

 


	10. Chapter 9: Papa Graves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I feel like you guys comment more when I post in the middle of the night Q_Q

Obscurus spiraled through the air amongst the clouds, his mind battling with the hate and rage stirring within him. Something was wrong with him and he couldn't understand it. He never felt like this before, so vengeful, so aggressive, and he needed to get away. To get to someone who could help him. To someone safe.

He couldn't go home. God knows what he might do to his sisters in this sort of state. Or what Mary Lou might do to him if he talked back to her. He had no family to speak of, no distant cousin or half-sibling. The orphanage was definitely out of the question—he hadn't been there in ten years. The Scamander household? Also out of the question. That was where Animagus was, and if Animagus wasn't angry at him before, he definitely would be now that Obscurus almost killed him.

The clouds grew heavier as Obscurus flew about, and when it began to rain just as the sun started to fall, Obscurus' pendant blinked in warning, his energy almost completely expelled. He dropped down from above the clouds, finding an alleyway to crash into and change back without prying eyes staring at him.

He stumbled out from the alleyway in his school outfit, already getting soaked through by the rain. His body was sore from all the crashing about he had done and his head was throbbing from the after effects of Animagus' superpower, but he stumbled down the sidewalk anyways, stuffing his hands into his pockets and trying to figure out where he was.  
The streets weren't familiar and the signs read names Credence didn't recall. The surrounding area was rather beautiful, however, even in the rain. It was the higher end of the city, that was for sure, and he knew he would stick out like a sore thumb, especially with how drenched he was.

He kept stumbling through the rain until a street sign caught his attention. He knew it, somehow. He had never been in this neighborhood, but this road was at least a little familiar. He decided to take his chances and turned down it, ignoring the squelch of his shoes as they filled with water.

Looking at the houses he passed, Credence wondered if he really knew where he was going. New York was so crammed that even the rich were buying apartments to live in, but where he was going now was an actual neighborhood with actual houses, no matter how squeezed together they are. There were cars in parkways and small front yards and mailboxes even. He marveled at each one he passed, until he stopped at one number in particular.

The car out front was a sleek black, rain washing over it smoothly. The mailbox was empty, but there was a light on inside. Credence walked towards it, his heart in his throat. Please, he prayed, please be someone kind.

Pressing the doorbell, Credence waited under the overhang, no longer being rained on but still shivering from the cold. He pushed his wet bangs from his face, hoping this drenched puppy look would be enough to get him at least a phone call. He didn’t really know what he could expect, in the end, but when the door opened, Credence realized why the street and house number rang a bell in his mind.

“Credence?” Professor Graves remarked in shock, his eyes wide and concerned.

“P-P-P-Prof-f-f—“ Credence tried to stutter out, but Professor Graves was already grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him inside.

“Look at you! Oh, Credence—“ he scoffed and began to peel off clothes from the boy, starting with the jacket and button-up shirt, then the belt and the shoes and socks. Credence trembled still, even after Graves closed the front door and nothing but warm air hit his suddenly bare skin. He looked up at the professor with vulnerable eyes, and the minute Graves got his topless, they both froze.

“Credence…” Graves breathed, his thumb running over the pendant that hung from his neck. Credence glanced down at it with a frown, then peered back up at the professor, deciding not to say a word. Graves met his gaze hesitantly, searched his eyes for a long moment, and he didn’t say anything either.

“Come on, we need to get you dry.” He stated, grabbing Credence by the shoulder once again and leading him further into the house. Instead of leading him to the bathroom, however, he brought him to the living room and sat the boy downing front of the crackling fireplace. The heat on his back was a blessing, and Credence leaned closer to it, sighing in relief.

“Stay here.” Graves ordered, vanishing into the house barely a minute later, and coming back with an excessive amount of towels. He looped one around Credence's shoulders, allowing the boy to grab the corners and wrap it around himself like a blanket. With the second one, Graves covered Credence's lap and proceeded to shuck off his soaked pants, tossing them to the side with a wet plop. And then, with the third and last towel, he brought it to Credence's hair and began to dry him, his touch purposeful, but relaxing. Even if it was a little embarrassing, Credence let out a sigh and leaned into him, allowing Graves to pamper him just a little.

“What possessed you to come here at a time like this?” Graves was muttering, his brows furrowed in what may have been a scolding frown, if not for the sparkle of sheer parental worry in his black eyes, “You’re practically soaked straight to the bone!”

“I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry…” Credence managed to say through chattering teeth, and Graves shook his head and rubbed at Credence's hair a little harder.

“You better be!” he huffed, finally pulling the towel away, leaving Credence's hair a frizzy mess of tangles and curls, “You’ll catch a cold like this, you crazy boy! Damn it…”

He got up again, leaving Credence covered in fluffy white towels, and he retreated into the kitchen. From where Credence sat, he could see Professor Graves opening cabinets in the kitchen, could hear him muttering all the while, and then flinched when Graves dropped a box and cursed.

A few minutes later, and Graves was coming back with a steaming mug, which he delivered to Credence's hands while saying, “Drink this. All of it.”  
Credence nodded shakily, looking down at the dark liquid with trepidation, but he began to sip it down anyways, noting that Graves was still crouched in front of him, watching him intently. The drink hit his tongue and Credence had to pull it away and stare down at the cup in wonder. His mouth was filled with liquid chocolate, creamy and wonderful, and when he swallowed his mouthful, he immediately drank down the rest. Graves smiled and leaned back a little, pleased with Credence's reaction, and when the cup was empty, he took it from his hands and stood.

He washed the cup silently, then disappeared into the house once again. Credence wrapped the towels around him tighter, one hand going to the towel still hanging over his head to rub at his hair a bit more. When Professor Graves returned, he had another gift for Credence—a pair of remarkably comfortable looking pajamas

“Here.” Graves said, setting the clothes beside Credence, “Get dressed as soon as you're dry. I’ll give you some privacy. When you're done, you'll find me in my office.”

Credence nodded silently, watching as Graves retreated from the room for the last time, giving the boy his privacy. He looked down at the pajamas again, brushing his fingers against the thick material, and bit his lip. The anger was still there, sitting in the pit of his stomach like a cursed stone, but the warmth from the fire and the chocolate drink and Graves’ parental side kept it trapped and silent. He dried himself off not a moment later, and dressed himself in the fine clothes left for him. He had even been given a satin red bathing robe, and though it reminded him of Newt laying trapped beneath his foot, he appreciated it nonetheless.

He laid out the towels and his wet clothes by the fire, hoping they’ll dry quicker that way, and he brushed his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to look nicer. When he had nothing else to distract him, Credence began to wander through the house, peering into open doors as he tried to find Graves. He passed by two bedrooms as he went, one with furniture in dark colors and a single queen-sized bed. It didn't look lived in. In fact, it looked as if it were just put together yesterday. The room opposite of it was decorated in soft pastel colors, twin-sized beds on either side of the room and a large window in the center of the far wall. Drapes hung from the sides, brushing delicately against the white-painted desk. Also untouched, also brand new.

When he finally did spot the Professor, he found him sitting at a desk covered in student work, quietly grading an essay. He looked up when Credence cleared his throat, then looked the boy over before he nodded approvingly.

“Sit,” he told him, gesturing with his pen to a plush armchair in the corner of the room, settled between a round side table and a fat bookcase. Credence sank back into the leather comfortably, running his fingers over the material curiously before Graves spoke to him again, “Credence, what were you doing out in this weather?”

Credence didn't answer immediately. He didn't know what he would tell Graves. He never really came up with a story for him, and he couldn't tell him that he had just been tearing up half of Manhattan. Instead of answering, Credence decided to circumvent the conversation altogether, and he asked Graves, “Do you have children?”

Graves blinked at him. He obviously was expecting some sort of answer, be it a lie or not. He wasn't expecting this, but it didn't look like he was going to call him out on it, either. Instead, he readjusted his position in his seat, began to finger a decorative cuff link at the corner of his table, and he said, “I don't, no. And I'm not married.”

Credence nodded slowly, lowering his gaze and stroking the leather on the armrests again, and in a quiet voice he asked, “Why do you have two bedrooms?”

Graves leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers over his stomach, thinking about the question for a long minute before replying, “I have three bedrooms, actually.”

“Then why do you have three bedrooms?” He asked, looking at Graves from underneath his lashes, seeing the man quirk the corner of his lips.

“I'm expecting three guests.” He answered. Credence frowned and lowered his eyes again.

“You shouldn't be.” Credence said under his breath, keeping his head down even when Graves shifted again.

“And why not?”

Credence pressed his lips into a hard line, then said, “CPS deemed Mary Lou unfit to support three children. They're putting me on the street and my sisters into foster homes. In three weeks, we're all going to be separated.”

Graves sighed through his nose and looked down at his desk, his eyes roaming, and when he leaned forward and began to rustle through the papers, Credence's attention was caught. He watched Graves leaf through his papers, looking for something, and when he found it, he smirked and stood. Walking around his desk, he presented Credence with a manila folder, and when Credence took it, he merely went to the front of his desk, crossed his arms, and leaned against it.

Credence looked through the folder slowly, frowning when the very first thing he saw was a thick packet of paperwork, all signed off or filled out. The next thing he saw was CPR certification. The last, a different sort of certification. Credence's brows lifted, and he looked up at Graves so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash.

“You b-became a foster parent?” Credence asked, and Graves nodded silently, “Why?”

“Because you needed me to.” Graves responded, his brows lifting. Credence continued to look up at Graves, awed. Graves smiled back at him, then seemed to remember something and he pulled out his phone. He scrolled through a few messages before he found one from Tina, which he handed over to Credence as well.

The boy took it slowly, as careful with the phone as he would be with a priceless gem, and he read the text string silently, though his mouth formed the words with the barest movement. The further he got in the conversation, the brighter his eyes grew. When he was done, his eyes were wet with unshed tears. Graves continued to watch the boy, his brows furrowed, unsure if this was a good response or bad. Credence lowered the phone to his lap, his bottom lip trembling, and when he looked back up at Graves, the tears began to fall.

“When?” He asked breathlessly.

“Three weeks from now.” Graves answered. Credence let out a shuddering breath.

“And... and me?” He asked next.

“As far as Porpentina told me, you'll be given a stipend and sent to live on your own.” Graves muttered, and Credence suddenly looked dejected. Desperate to fix it, Graves explained, “I can't foster you because you're turning eighteen in a month, Credence. But I can and will take you into my home. Not because I feel like I need to, not because I feel like I owe you... but because I want to take care of you. I.... I can't adopt you, but I want to...”

“I... I can't just live with you...” Credence murmured, shaking his head, “I have no way to pay you, I-I--”

“Shh....” Graves interrupted, tapping a finger to his lips while keeping his eyes on Credence, “I don't need payment. Look at my house, Credence, my car, my clothes. The last thing I need is money.” He stepped away from the desk, walked slowly towards Credence, and when he was right in front of him, he gently, oh so gently, brushed his hand against Credence's cheek. He smiled when Credence leaned into it, though Credence's eyes never left Graves'.

“Why?” Credence whispered, his breath warm against Graves' wrist. Graves smiled, and he brushed some hair from Credence's face, tucking it behind his ear.

“Because I care deeply for you, Credence. You remind me of myself and... and I want to do good by you.” Graves answered, “I wasn't lying when I said you have potential. I want to help you unlock it.”

Credence shuddered, and he closed his eyes and let Graves tend to him. More tears slipped down his cheeks, tears that Graves brushed away with a calloused thumb. With Credence calm and content, Graves finally asked again, “Why did you come here tonight?”

With a whimper, Credence shook his head and mumbled, “Don't make me tell you... please...”

Graves gently hushed him again, lowering himself onto his knees before Credence and taking both of his hands in his own. He looked up at the boy, even when Credence tried all he could to look away, and he said, “Credence. Please, tell me why you came.”

Still shaking his head, Credence squeezed his eyes shut and muttered, “I did a bad thing, Professor... I... I don't know what's wrong with me...” More tears fell, more tears that Graves didn't wipe away simply because he didn't want to let go of his hands. “I was so... I was so angry...”

“What happened, Credence?” Graves asked, squeezing his hands, trying to sound calm when he was beginning to really worry. His breath caught when Credence opened his eyes and met his gaze, vulnerable and scared.

“I...” He breathed, then stopped to sob for a moment longer before trying again, “I h-hurt a lot of people today, Professor... I hurt so many...”

Graves' eyes darted between Credence's, silent as he evaluated him, tried to figure him out, tried to confirm his fears. When all he saw was resigned truth to his words, Graves swallowed thickly and nodded. Staying on his knees, Graves told Credence, “I understand.” Credence cried more, though he remained just as silent as before.

“Credence,” Professor Graves called to him, getting his attention once more, “I want you to listen to me. Listen to me carefully.” Credence began to nod, and Graves offered him a small smile before he continued, “I'm not angry at you for what you did. I don't blame you for the people you hurt. All I care about is that you're safe and... right now, I'm not sure that you are.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Credence sniffed, holding onto Graves' hands desperately, though the Professor didn't seem keen on moving away any time soon.

“I think there was someone... forcing you to do what you did.” Graves said, keeping his eyes gentle, “I think he may still have some influence over you, Credence.”

Credence went rigid at the suggestion, his eyes wide, and he asked in a whisper, “You think it's...Grindelwald?”

“Yes. I do.” Graves confirmed, “And I think he's still with you. I think he may be hidden... here.” He pressed a finger to Credence's chest, right where the pendant sat, and Credence looked down at it with fear.

“No... He can't be....” Credence whimpered, but Graves only nodded.

“He can be.” He told him, “He can be if you're suffering. It's how he chooses his victims, it's how he controls them.”

“What do I do?” Credence asked then, looking at Graves once more.

“Give me your Miraculous,” Graves instructed, “And it'll break his connection with you.”

Credence huffed and pulled his hands away, bringing them up to where the necklace was clasped at the back of his neck, fully prepared to take it off... when he paused. Graves watched him intently, glancing between his eyes and when Credence began to lower his hands without removing the pendant, Graves' brow furrowed and he asked, “What's the matter?”

“H-how do you know so much about this?” Credence asked, keeping his eyes on his lap, on Graves' hands which settled on his knees, “How do you know about Grindelwald?”

“I've known about him ever since he appeared,” Graves answered darkly, “It was my duty to study him, to understand his motives. Just like it is your duty to protect Manhattan with Animagus.”

“How did you know about the pendant?” Credence asked next, still not meeting Graves' eyes, even when the man reared back in surprise.

“Excuse me?” Graves retorted.

“How did you know the pendant was... it.” Credence explained.

“Was what?”

“The Miraculous.” Credence said, looking up at Graves now, “How did you know it was the Miraculous?”

Graves was silent for a long moment, recalling his previous words to Credence before he gritted his teeth, “Credence... It's not what you think it is.”

“Don't lie to me,” Credence mumbled, shaking his head, “Don't you dare lie to me!”

“I'm not lying--” Graves tried to defend himself, but Credence was shoving him away so he could stand up, throwing Graves onto his backside. The older man quickly crawled his way backwards, knocking into his desk so hard it sent the items sitting on the corner falling to the carpeted floor.

“I can't believe I didn't see it...” Credence whispered, stepping away from the chair, “You're Grindelwald. Aren't you?”

“I'm not.” Graves declared, but Credence wouldn't listen.

“Aren't you?!” He shouted instead, making Graves flinch backwards.

“I'm not!” Graves insisted, pushing himself back a few more inches, knocking away a pencil holder, an empty mug, the single cuff link. “Do you really think I would do the things he's done?!”

“Why wouldn't you?” Credence snarled, “You knew who I was all along, didn't you?! You tore apart my family so you could have me all to yourself, didn't you?!”

“Credence! Stop!” Graves begged, only to gasp and cover his eyes when a burst of bright green light struck across Credence's body, making the boy cry out in pain. “You're becoming overwhelmed again, Credence! You need to calm down!” The light engulfed him entirely, and his pained scream only increased in volume, “You can control it!”

It was as quick as flicking a switch. The light vanished completely, leaving Obscurus standing there, his eyes bright green and jolts of green lightning sparkled across his body and shawl. He met Graves' eyes with a cool certainty, and he spoke in a level voice, calmer than the stillest ponds.

“I don't think I want to, Professor.”


	11. Chapter 10: In Come the Calvary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my theory has been proven correct.
> 
> Also, short chapter tonight. It was either short tonight or freakishly long a day from now lol

His entire office had been left in disarray after Credence left in a whirlwind of smoke and ash. Furniture was upturned, books thrown from their shelves, and even a few papers had been shredded to pieces. A thick patch of tiny scratch marks tore up the wallpaper, leaving bits and pieces hanging. The light hanging from the ceiling was smashed and the bulb shattered. And yet, in the midst of all of this chaos, Percival was left relatively untouched.

Relatively, because the first thing Credence did after transforming into Obscurus, was throw Percival across the room and into the wall behind him. His skull had struck the wall just after his back did, sending his vision into blackness and weakening his muscles until he had no choice but to collapse to the floor. He fought to keep conscious, and it was a hard fight, but in the end, he stayed awake.

When his tunnel vision waned and the throbbing in his skull dulled, Percival slowly pushed himself onto his hands and knees. He went slowly, pushing papers around and moving books until he found his cuff link, which he gripped in his palm tightly.

He was too old for this, he thought to himself. The only damned reason why he kept it was because he couldn't find a single person he'd trust enough to give it to. The Goldsteins had found their heirs remarkably quickly, so quickly, in fact, that Percival had lectured them about it endlessly, saying they were too quick to trust. The sisters merely humored him, but it was obvious they disagreed. Kneeling there now on the floor of his office, Percival realized they had been correct to choose their heirs.

If there were ever a person he'd want to pass his gift onto, it would have been Credence. It would have been whoever Animagus was. The both of them were amazing together, completely in-tuned with each other, strong where the other was weak, and supportive when the other was broken. Just like the sisters had been. Just like he and...

Percival gritted his teeth. It was far too early for Animagus to come back out. He had seen the battle on the news, and with the energy Animagus exerted, it would take him at least a _day_ to be strong enough to change. He would have believed the same of Obscurus if he didn't have the damned Imperius fueling him.

The only other person active on the field was him. He was much too old, he reminded himself, but it was his duty, just as much as it was Animagus' and Obscurus'. Manhattan was his to protect when the other heroes couldn't. And if Grindelwald threatened his heroes, he would fight.

“Wampus,” Percival bid, and the cufflink in his palm glowed in response. The kwami within stirred, he could feel it, but the bastard was too lazy in Percival's opinion, and only ever showed if hungry. He wanted to shake the cuff link about, wanted to urge the creature out, but he knew it was futile. “Transform me.”

\----------

Newt and Theseus sat in the older brother's bedroom, his TV showing the news as Newt cleaned up his wounds and bandaged himself up. He was sitting there, shirtless, tending to the gashes across his torso when the news immediately changed topics.

“This just in,” The reporter said in a rush, just as cameras began to show the desolate streets of Manhattan, “It looks like Obscurus' rampage is not yet over with, not for tonight, at least. After the destruction he wrought on Manhattan less than eight hours ago, sources say he's been spotted again, zipping through the air just underneath the clouds. The Manhattan Police Department are urging citizens to stay inside, stay protected, and stay hidden.”

Newt stood from Theseus' bed just as his brother began to turn down the volume, and they both looked at each other in worry. Newt strode across the room to the pocket watch on Theseus' cluttered desk, picking it up and whispering, “Pickett, please tell me you're rested!”

The pocket watch glowed defiantly, and the kwami didn't appear. Newt clenched his jaw tightly and looked back at Theseus, eyes wide. “He's still too exhausted from earlier...”

“You can't change?” Theseus exclaimed, getting up from the bed as well, even when his little brother shook his head with a frown. “Then... what do we do?”

“I... I don't know...” Newt admitted, clutching the pocket watch to his chest, “Every time an enemy appeared, Obscurus and I took care of it in one battle. There were never more than one within a day's time...”

Theseus crossed his arms and Newt began to pace, muttering under his breath as they tried to think of a solution. While Theseus was only thinking of ways to fight Obscurus, Newt was thinking of ways to minimize the crossfire.

“We'll go out into the streets,” Newt decided, “Just as ourselves. No cameras, no Animagus. We'll evacuate as many people as we can, get them out of Manhattan. We can't let Obscurus harm anyone else.”

“How are we going to do that? We can't just go knocking on every door in Manhattan!” Theseus argued, shaking his head, “What do you even think they'll say?”

“We have to do something!” Newt cried, looking absolutely distraught, “I won't let Obscurus hurt anyone else! The moment he's back to himself, he'll only hate himself more!”

“You really think he'll come back somehow?” Theseus scoffed, “The man tried to kill you, Newt!”

“But he didn't.”

“But he _tried_!” Theseus pushed, stepping closer to his little brother, “Obscurus is long gone, Newton. Whatever he is now... it's not going to go away!”

“Then what do you suggest?” Newt groused, standing firm even when Theseus faltered.

“What would anyone else do when a terrorist threatened their city?” Theseus asked in return, “We need to take him down.”

Newt's eyes widened in disbelief, and he asked, “You want to _kill_ him?”

“If not permanently disable him! He has too much power, Newt. He needs to be stopped.”

“He's my partner!” Newt argued desperately, but Theseus wasn't going to buy it.

“He isn't anymore. He _tried_ to _kill you._ ”

“I'm not helping you kill Obscurus,” Newt decided, shaking his head, “I don't care what you do, Thees, but I won't let you touch him.”

“Are you insane?!” Theseus shouted, but Newt was grabbing his shirt and already leaving Theseus' bedroom, his hastened footsteps thundering down the staircase. Theseus ran after him, grabbing his jacket and shouting out, “Newton! Come back here!”

\---------------

Chastity paced in her bedroom, patting her chest rhythmically and constantly glancing at the clock. Modesty sat on her bed with Chastity's phone in her hands. Chastity had handed it to her to quell the frightened girl by allowing her to play a few games, but that lost Chastity a distraction for herself.

“Where is he?” Chastity whispered, looking at the clock for the fifth time in the last two minutes. When she still didn't hear the front door, she groaned and continued to pace, muttering, “Come on Credence...”

Chastity scowled when she heard Modesty watching a video, but she tried to ignore it. If Modesty weren't panicking, then everything would be fine, or at least that's what she told herself. It was already dark out, and Credence hadn't come home, she was genuinely beginning to worry for her brother.

“He wouldn't have gone to Theseus' by himself, would he?” Chastity asked herself aloud, still pacing her room and trying to tune out the sound of Modesty's video. “I don't even have his number... Chastity, you idiot!”

“Chastity?” Modesty spoke up, and Chastity paused mid-pace to turn to the young girl sitting on her bed.

“What?”

“Look,” Modesty mumbled, still watching the phone intently. Chastity narrowed her eyes curiously, then sat beside her sister, curling her legs underneath her. She leaned against Modesty and watched what appeared to be the news, and she tried not to roll her eyes.

“Modesty, I don't think you should be watching this sort of stuff,” Chastity said to her, but Modesty shook her head insistently.

“Just watch!”

They watched silently as the newscaster read off a recent story, the images showing half of Manhattan in chaos. Chastity gasped when it showed Ilvermorny, the school Credence went to, with parking lot completely torn up and the windows smashed to bits.

“Oh, God, please no...” Chastity begged, and Modesty turned the volume louder.

“This just in,” Came the reporter's voice, tinny through the cell phone speakers, “It looks like Obscurus' rampage is not yet over with, not for tonight, at least.”

“Obscurus?” Modesty and Chastity exclaimed in surprise.

“After the destruction he wrought on Manhattan less than eight hours ago, sources say he's been spotted again, zipping through the air just underneath the clouds. The Manhattan Police Department are urging citizens to stay inside, stay protected, and stay hidden.” The reporter finished, and the news went on to a lighter topic. Modesty turned the video off and sat the phone in her lap, her eyes distant and her jaw hanging agape. Chastity was trembling, her hand covering her mouth.

“This can't be right...” Modesty whispered, and Chastity began to shake her head in disbelief.

“This is _exactly_ what I said would happen.” Chastity argued, looking at her sister, “This is _exactly_ why human beings shouldn't have so much power!”

“He wouldn't do this!” Modesty tried to defend him, but Chastity wouldn't hear it.

“You don't know what kind of person Obscurus is, Modesty! There will never be a man out there who wouldn't abuse such power!” Chastity claimed, and Modesty all but fumed.

“Credence wouldn't do this!” She shouted, sitting up on her knees so that she was taller than Chastity, even if it were just a few inches, “Credence would never hurt anyone!”

“Modesty--!” Chastity tried to quell her, but this time it was Modesty who refused to listen.

“No!” She shouted over her sister, “We have to help him, Chastity! We have to save him! Credence is hurt, he's in trouble, I know he is!”

“Where are we even going to find him?! Half of Manhattan is torn apart, Modesty!” Chastity cried, but Modesty was already getting off of her bed and grabbing her shoes.

“Don't you get it?” Modesty huffed, grabbing Chastity's shoes next and throwing them at her, “Credence is Obscurus!”

“What?” Chastity snorted, though she found herself putting her shoes on anyways, “There's no way he could be--”

“Why do you think he gets hurt so often?” Modesty pointed out, tying up her laces as quickly as she could manage, “Why do you think he barely gets any sleep? He's always sneaking out at night, did you notice? And whenever there's a monster in town, he's never here!”

Chastity's hands slowed as the realization hit her, and she looked up at Modesty in shock before she whispered, “Oh, my goodness...”

“We have to save him, Chastity!” Modesty urged again, dropping to her knees in front of her sister to finish tying up her shoes, “Please!”

“Credence is.... He can't be...” Chastity mumbled, bringing her hand back to her mouth, only for her wrist to be grabbed by her younger sister so she could pull her off the bed.

“Come on, Chastity!” Modesty urged, and together, they ran down the stairs and out of the house.

 


	12. Chapter 11: Released

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all of my readers screamed in unison:
> 
> "FUCKING FINALLY GOD DAMN"

This time when Obscurus tore through Manhattan, he did so screaming. It was inhuman, a mixture of metal grinding on metal, nails on chalkboard, and the wails of the dead all wrapped into one. It was a sharp noise, loud and echoing, and it was only punctuated with every smashed window and crumbling building and car alarm. When he had first been sporadic in his destruction, he was now intent, taking down every last obstacle in his path, be it inanimate or human.

Newt, as he ran towards Obscurus, desperately pulled together anything and everything that could conceal his identity. He couldn't use the pocket watch because Pickett was out of energy, but he couldn't very well run right in with his every-day face out there for everyone to see, especially with so many news reporters around. As he ran, he found an oversized leather jacket, one pink and one orange cloth glove, a thick purple and yellow polka dot scarf that he used to not only wrap around his neck but to cover the lower half of his face as well. He grabbed a broken pair of sunglasses, one of the ray ban's lenses popped out, but it was enough to do the trick. Now somewhat comfortably disguised, was prepared to confront Obscurus for the second time that day.

He followed the noises, letting them guide him towards his partner, and when he found the ball of dark power, he realized he wasn't the only one who came to confront Obscurus.

Standing a short distance away stood a man wearing a dark overcoat and black, metal-clawed gloves. With his back to Newt, the boy couldn't get a read on him, but he could hear him trying to yell over the noises of destruction. Newt could hardly hear what he was saying, but he definitely sounded strained. The man flinched when a dark tendril smashed down into the cement right beside him, but he still didn't retreat. In fact, he looked like he was stepping even closer.

Newt cursed under his breath and ran forward, dodging debris and Obscurus' attacks to get closer to the man.

“Hey!” He shouted, but the man was still trying to communicate with Obscurus, “ _Hey!_ ” He reached out when he was close enough, grabbing the man by his shoulder and spinning him around.

The man looked at him with pure black eyes, eclipsing even the sclera, peering down at him from under a dark yellow ochre mask. His black hair was slicked back, a touch of grey at his temples that belied his age despite his young face. He looked over Newt, completely unimpressed, and he turned away from him to call out to Obscurus again.

Newt grimaced and grabbed him by the wrist again, pulling him back to face him, and he shouted, “Who are you? You can get hurt!”

The man scoffed and pushed him back, but this time his attention remained. He advanced on Newt, making the boy stumble backwards as to not get trampled on, and the man growled out, “I have been on this scene for more than thirty years, _boy_ , don't try to tell me what to do.”

“Who are you?” Newt asked again, and the man smirked coldly, continuing to advance.

“Who are _you_?” The man asked back, “Haphazardly dressed, broken glasses—it looks like you pulled this together from a Goodwill.”

“I'm Animagus. And I need to help my partner.” Newt declared, and this time, the man paused and reeled back a step.

“Animagus?” He asked, genuinely surprised, “What are you--” He looked at him again, then snorted and shook his head, “Pickett's down, Animagus. You can't be here.”

“P-Picke—How do you--?” Newt began to stammer, but the man was already waving him away.

“My boy, I know far more about the Miraculous and kwami than you and Obscurus put together.” The man responded, turning back to Obscurus just in time to miss the look of realization that filled Newt's visible eye.

“ _The Director_?” He guessed, and the man sent him a sideways smirk.

“Eye in the sky, voice in your ear. The very same.” He confirmed, only to frown once more, “Then you'll understand when I say that Grindelwald has Obscurus under his influence. The Imperius is in the pendant... but the pendant is also his Miraculous.”

Newt frowned beneath his scarf and looked up at Obscurus, cringing when the darkness clustered around a building and tore practically the entire wall off. “So what does that mean?”

“That means we can't get the Imperius out without revealing Obscurus' everyday face. It also means that we can't get the Imperius unless....” The Director sighed and shook his head, but Newt stared at him nervously.

“Unless... what?” Newt pushed, and The Director grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Unless we destroy the Miraculous.” The Director finally answered.

“Destroy...?” Newt breathed, wide-eyed, “But then... Obscurus...”

“Would cease to exist, yes.” The Director confirmed, “Unless he rejects the Imperius himself—which has only happened _once_ before that in my time—we have to put an end to Obscurus entirely.”

“But what would happen to him?” Newt pressed, his brows furrowed, “What would happen to Obscurus under the mask?”

The Director shrugged, then said, “He'll go back to being just another citizen.”

“He won't be hurt?” Newt continued, taking a few steps forward, “Breaking the Imperius-- breaking his Miraculous won't do anything to him?”

“It'll hurt, probably, but he'll live. He's much too strong to die from a little bit of pain...” The Director remarked in awe.

“There has to be another way...” Newt mumbled, and The Director shook his head.

“Apart from killing Grindelwald himself... then no. We have very few options here, Animagus. And we need to act fast. The longer he stays like this, the more powerful Grindelwald becomes.”

“Alright. What's the plan?” Newt asked, prepared to do just about anything to save his friend. The Director sighed and shook his head.

“Calm him down enough to get the Miraculous.” He answered, and Newt began to nod.

“Right...” Newt mumbled, “We'll be distracting him, then.”

“Are you sure? You have no protection.” The Director remarked, eyeing Newt nervously.

“I'll be fine,” Newt confirmed, sucking in a deep breath, then striding forward. Obscurus had gone down from his spot in the sky to attack a few vulnerable cars, allowing Newt the chance to approach his shadowy form. When he was close enough, Animagus held out his hands, showing he had nothing to hide, and called out, “Obscurus! It's... It's me. Animagus.”

The screeching noise grew in volume and Obscurus slammed into the ground a few meters in front of Newt, expanding as if attempting to threaten him, to warn him away. Newt stopped advancing, but he didn't retreat, either. Instead, he watched Obscurus closely, making sure he wasn't about to lash out or turn violent. Newt glanced behind him and saw The Director had vanished, probably attempting to approach from a different angle. He was going to be on his own for now. Summoning his resolve, Newt faced Obscurus once again and called out to him, “I know you're hurting! I'm... I'm sorry about what I did to you earlier... Please, I just want to help you!”

“You _cannot_ help me!” Came Obscurus' voice from the ether, bouncing around within the inky blackness of his incorporeal form, sounding both far away and right in front of Newt. “I don't _want_ your help!”

“Fine! Then turn your attacks on me! Take _me,_ just leave the rest of Manhattan alone!” Newt bargained, clenching his hands into fists, “ _I_ hurt you, _I'm_ the one you're angry at! Hurt me back, torture me, _kill_ me, just _stop this_!”

Obscurus began to scream, an anguished yet enraged sound coming from deep within. He twisted and snapped and lurched, and then, like a vengeful tornado, he shot towards Newt. The young man stood his ground and jutted his chin in the air, even though every last instinct within him was yelling at him to run, to jump out of the way, to save himself.

Hands shot out of the darkness, grabbing Newt by the lapels of his borrowed leather jacket, and Obscurus carried him into the air at top speed. Newt clung to Obscurus' hands, desperate not to be dropped from such a height, and then he was being slammed into a partially standing building, back first. He cried out in pain, though he tried to keep it contained behind gritted teeth, and when he opened his eyes and squinted through the tears, he found most of Obscurus' upper body floating in front of him, his smoke holding the two of them up at least four floors above ground.

Credence bared his teeth and tightened his hold on Newt's jacket. He released one hand and grabbed his scarf, ripping it from around his neck and knocking the broken glasses off in the process. Now bare-faced, Newt looked back at Credence in poorly hidden fear. He didn't want to die, not really, but he couldn't bear risking the rest of Manhattan just for his own safety.

“Obscurus,” Newt gasped, not really sure what he was doing, but just about _anything_ was better than letting his fear take hold of him, “This isn't you.... I know it isn't...”

“You don't know me.” Obscurus spit back, but he didn't make another move, didn't let go of him, didn't show any intentions of actually killing the man. Newt licked his lips, his stomach doing flips with nerves, and the craziest thought popped into his mind. He glanced down at the Miraculous around Obscurus' neck. If he took it now, Obscurus would lose his powers, and they'd both plummet to their deaths. While Newt was fine with self-sacrifice, he knew Obscurus didn't deserve such a fate. None of this was his fault, especially if Grindelwald was involved...

But he was going to die, either way, Newt realized with a grim sort of relief. He had danced around Obscurus for three entire years. He might as well put an end to it, just as Obscurus would put an end to him.

“Promise me you'll leave Manhattan alone,” Newt begged, looking into Obscurus' eyes and tightening his grip on his wrists, “Please... Once I'm gone, just leave the rest of them alone....”

“I will promise you nothing, traitor,” Obscurus growled, and Newt had to admit that he really wasn't all that surprised. Clenching his jaw, Newt gave his partner a jerky nod.

“I get it,” He told him, one hand letting go of Obscurus' wrist to grab at his hood instead. Obscurus flinched at first, glancing down at Newt's arm, and then he settled for glaring at Newt coldly. “Then let me at least apologize.” He brought his other hand up, this time grabbing Obscurus by the front of his shawl in a tight fist.

Obscurus snarled, tensing up a bit, and he began to say, “What are you talking about?” but Newt cut him off when he pulled Obscurus closer and smashed their lips together, squeezing his eyes shut in the process. He could feel Obscurus grunt against his mouth just as much as he heard him, but the hero didn't try to pull away. Newt was pretty sure he had cut his lip on his teeth, but that didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now. At least he got to do this much. At least Theseus won't be able to call him a coward anymore.

When Newt let go of Obscurus, the man jerked his head back, just to gape at him. Sure enough, the corner of his lip was cut just the smallest bit, but it didn't seem to cross Obscurus' mind. In fact, he looked... calmer.

Until, that is, Obscurus gritted his teeth and began to growl. Newt felt his heart sink, and he closed his eyes to resign himself to his fate. He hoped The Director would be enough to save Manhattan from Obscurus. He hoped Theseus would be okay. He gasped when Obscurus pulled him away from the building wall, felt his stomach leap into his throat as his partner shot down towards the road with Newt still grasped in his hands. He yelped when he felt those hands let go.

Newt hit the ground with a grunt, then immediately wheezed and rolled onto his side as he tried to get his lungs back in working order. When he managed to suck in a breath and the spots in his vision cleared, he looked around himself to find a vortex of shadow manifesting around him, as if he were sitting in the eye of the tornado itself. The grind of metal and the crumbling of asphalt was so loud that Newt had to cover his ears. Moments later, Obscurus was pulling away from him, and Newt found where he had been put.

Within a few short seconds, Obscurus had pulled together a circle of crushed cars, all tipped onto their sides and trapping Newt in the middle of them. Rubble from the buildings and road around him filled in any crack he could have crawled out of. Newt got to his feet and turned slowly, realizing what had just happened.

He kissed Obscurus. And Obscurus responded by putting him in a cage.

“Ob—Obscurus!” Newt shouted, running up to one of the cars to try and climb over it, but the whole vehicle wobbled dangerously. “Obscurus! Get back here!” He called again, but the hero had already zipped out of earshot, intent of continuing his destruction.

\-----------------

From atop a building still untouched by Obscurus' rage, The Director watched everything. He paced slowly, his eyes focused on the shadowed forms of Obscurus and Animagus, then cringing when Obscurus shot down with the hero in hand, only to trap him in a circle of cars and broken cement.

He cursed under his breath and paced a little faster. He had never been the hero to be on the ground, fighting. He could, certainly, but his specialty was distance and strategics. His weapon was a blasted _stick_. It gave him telekinesis, sure, but he could only use that to throw inanimate objects at Obscurus. And his superpower.... The Director sighed and tried to decide what to do. He had to step in, sooner or later. He had to end this tonight, even if it meant destroying Obscurus completely and losing Credence's trust. Manhattan would miss their strongest hero, but it was better than _this._

His attention was grabbed when two young girls appeared on the scene, shouting and calling out, grabbing Obscurus' attention. The Director stepped up to the ledge of the building, staring down at the girls, then immediately cursing once again when he realized just who they were. He summoned forth his weapon—his _stick—_ and began to craft himself a shoddy staircase of rubble so he could get to them before Obscurus could.

Ten stories down, Modesty and Chastity stood side-by-side, yelling at Obscurus to focus on them. The shadows shifted and trembled, pausing his rampage long enough for the girls' shouts to quell. The smoke crept closer, moving slowly, carefully, and Modesty grabbed Chastity's hand.

“Credence... Please...” Modesty said to him, her voice gentle, scared, and pleading, “You're scaring me...”

The smoke began to contract, sucking in faster and faster until Obscurus stood there, in the flesh, looking haggard and broken. He stumbled a few steps forward, approaching his sisters, and then dropped to his knee so that he was eye-to-eye with Modesty. His little sister trembled, her eyes wet with worried tears, and Credence, underneath the mask and Grindelwald's influence, could feel his heart break.

“Let's just go home,” Chastity spoke up, and Credence looked up at her, his expression vulnerable, but hopeful, “Let's just leave today behind... Please, Credence.”

Credence looked between the two, still on his knees, and before he knew it, he began to cry. Thick tears welled from his eyes, spilling down over his mask and down his cheeks until they were dripping from his chin. Credence reached towards his sisters, wrapping one arm around Modesty's shoulders, the other around Chastity's waist, and he pulled the girls against his chest, pressing his cheek against Modesty's, cheek then nuzzling his forehead against Chastity's stomach. Modesty wrapped her fragile arms around Credence's neck and kissed his temple, and Chastity lowered herself down so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” Credence began to whisper, and just like the smoke, his mask and costume began to evaporate, leaving behind the scared and confused teenage boy in another man's pajamas. He held onto his sisters tighter, pain erupting in his stomach underneath the love, “I didn't mean to... I was scared... I was going to lose you two...”

“Shh, Credence,” Chastity whispered, brushing her hand over his hair.

“We know you didn't mean to,” Modesty assured him, kissing his cheek this time.

Credence whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut, letting his sisters calm him, and he told them, “They were going to take you away from me... I... I didn't want to be alone... I didn't want to lose my family.”

“You'd never lose us!” Modesty exclaimed, moving away so she could look at Credence, meeting his tired eyes when he did open them, “I don't care _where_ they take us, Credence, you'll always be with us!”

“I'm too old, Modesty. They can't protect me anymore...” Credence tried to explain, but both girls remained resolute in this.

“No matter where we go, Credence, we're taking you with us!” Modesty huffed, crossing her little arms and making Credence smile weakly.

“We would sneak you into our bedrooms every night if we have to.” Chastity agreed, her brows furrowed, but her eyes shining, “We'd even feed you the dog's food if we needed to!”

This time, Credence laughed, even though it was a little strained. He squeezed his sisters to him even tighter, his heart light even though the imminent loss of the both of them still weighed heavy on his shoulders. “I love you,” He told the both of them, and immediately, their expressions softened.

“Credence...” Chastity sighed, while Modesty all but threw herself against his chest and hugged him real tight.

“I love you, too, big brother...” She whimpered.

Credence smiled, a few last tears slipping from his eyes, and with an exhausted breath, he sighed. Relief filled his lungs, reinvigorating his tired, anguished soul. His sisters' warmth against his chest, their loving support, their _forgiveness_ beat through his veins just as surely as his blood did, and he knew without a doubt, that nothing in Manhattan, nothing in America, nothing in this _world_ would tear these three apart. Especially not himself.

It felt like a knot within the deepest chamber of his heart untied, and if he were looking, he would have seen an innocent white butterfly fluttering away.

The Director reached the ground just in time to find Credence and his sisters kneeling on the ground together, arms entwined and sad little smiles on their faces. He slowed his pace towards them, smiling a little as he watched them together.

However, as he approached, he caught Credence's attention, and it was as if he was under the Imperius' influence all over again. He stood in one fluid motion and stepped in front of his sisters. The Director slowed down in his gaunt, frowning when Credence shouted, “Stay back! Stay away from us!”

“Credence!” Modesty gasped, grabbing onto one of his sleeves while Chastity grabbed Modesty's shoulders, prepared to pull her away if need be.

“Calm down, my boy...” The Director soothed, and he could see Credence's shoulders relax.

“The... The Director?” Credence asked, wide-eyed. The Director nodded with a small smile, and to prove it, he touched the receiver in his ear.

“The very same.” He said, and then his smile fell, “I didn't mean to scare you earlier, Credence. I had your best intentions at heart...”

“What?” Credence whispered, and The Director sighed and tapped his foot nervously against the ground.

“It's me. Percival Graves?” He explained quietly, watching surprise fill the boy's eyes.

“Professor?”

Percival only nodded. Credence gaped at him for a moment longer, then turned red in embarrassment. “I... I knew you couldn't be... _him_.”

“You said a lot of things, Credence. You've done a lot of things, too.” The Director reassured him gently, slowly advancing towards him when Credence was no longer on edge, “But it was under his influence. You can't blame yourself for what happened.”

Credence sighed, and he meekly looked around, first at the crumbling buildings, then at the torn up roads, and finally at the mess of cars. “It wasn't all him... He just... made it easier.” He explained slowly, and he flinched when The Director set a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

“I know.” He told the boy, “But with our Miraculouses, we can fix this mess. It'll just take some work.”

Credence nodded, standing a bit straighter, and he told The Director, “Just tell me what to do and I'll do it.”

Smiling, The Director mentioned, “Well, you can't do it all on your own. We'll all have to work together; you, me, and Anima--” He paused, then frowned and looked around, “Animagus? Where is he?”

“Oh,” Credence went red for an entirely different reason, and he cast a sideways glance at the cage of cars he had created, “I-I.... he's still in there...”

Chuckling, The Director summoned forth his glorified stick and strode towards it, “Get ready to change back into Obscurus. We'll need to _scourgify_ this mess.” That said, The Director waves the stick towards the car-made cage, and with immense power, he lifted the cars and rubble away, setting them in piles along the side of the street.

Newt got to his feet as soon as his cage began to clear away, and when he was able to, he slipped out and immediately began to look around. “What happened?” He called out, approaching The Director first, and then immediately noticing the Barebone family, “What are you doing here?” He asked them, jerkily tugging off his mismatched gloves and baggy leather jacket, as if standing there in his house-clothes was any better.

Credence flushed at the sight of him, then smiled nervously and mumbled, “I.... I'm sorry.”

“Huh?”

“For hurting you earlier,” Credence explained nervously, glancing down at Modesty when she took his hand, “I wasn't myself.”

Newt merely stared back at Credence. He stared at him for a long few moments. In fact, it felt like minutes had passed with Newt just gaping at him, blinking dumbly and silently. When his brain seemed to process what Credence was implying, Newt's entire face lit up.

And then, subsequently, went red.

“A-ah... you're probably, er, wondering about the, um, the 'apology',” He laughed nervously, rocking back and forth on his heels, averting his gaze to anything _but_ Credence. The Barebone boy, however, only smiled in amusement.

“I forgive you,” He told Newt.

The youngest Scamander paused, then smiled shyly up at Credence before muttering, “I'll try to keep my hands to myself next time you're holding me thirty feet in the air...”

“That, I wouldn't forgive.” Credence stated, shocking Newt so much the boy looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a twinge of wonder.

“My boys,” The Director cut in, all business and no play as he straightened out his sleeves, “It's time we put this day to a rest.”

“You're right,” Credence agreed, and he clasped his pendant once more before whispering to the kwami inside, “Can you last for just a few more minutes, Hallow?”

A tendril of smoke and shadow curled forth, spinning itself around Credence's hand, then shooting up to brush against his cheek in affirmation. Credence smiled, and a moment later, he stood there as Obscurus once again, no longer tainted by the Imperius.

“How about you, Pickett?” Newt spoke into his pocket watch, laughing when Pickett sluggishly crawled out of the device and pouted at him, obviously worse for wear. “Don't worry, it'll just be a second.” Resigned to their duty, Pickett reluctantly agreed, and Newt transformed into Animagus, though the cuts and bruising from earlier still showed through.

“Good,” The Director smiled at them, a weird sort of pride twisting in his chest, “Now, take out your weapons.”

“What?” Animagus blurted, suddenly wide-eyed, “Are you serious? Isn't there another way?”

“We can only scourgify with our weapons,” Obscurus explained, already grasping his flogger from the shadows. Animagus turned pink.

“But my weapon is ridiculous!” He complained. The Director huffed and cleared his throat.

“More ridiculous than this?” He questioned, holding up his wooden stick, but Animagus only pouted at him.

“Yes!” He declared, but when he realized he wasn't going to win this argument, he summoned his weapon regardless.

Obscurus snorted, then promptly covered his mouth with a hand. Newt shot a nasty glare his way, and Obscurus immediately apologized, “It's just been so long since I've seen it...”

“Boys.” The Director huffed, holding out the stick already, “On three?”

“Alright.” Both of them agreed. Obscurus held out his flogger. Animagus held out his metal tea kettle.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

Their weapons spun into the air, then exploded once they uttered the word. A bright, white light shattered outwards, their powers reaching to the farthest ends of Obscurus' rampage, putting everything in its path back into sorts. It was a long process, and all three of them felt the pull in their chests. It took nearly ten minutes before the world around them was right again, and once the white light dissipated entirely, all three of them immediately transformed back into their human forms.

Credence looked up at Professor Graves. Professor Graves offered him a small smile, then glanced towards Newt. Newt was panting tiredly, pushing his fingers through his hair before he peeked towards Credence. Credence met his gaze with a weak smile, and he brushed a hand against Newt's arm, a silent gesture of support.

They would go their own ways for the night. They would return to their homes and watch the news. They would sit there in nervous tension as the reporters all spoke about Obscurus' destruction of Manhattan, question the morality of their so-called 'heroes', and wonder if Manhattan wouldn't be safer without them. Luckily, most of what happened during Credence's second rampage went unfilmed. None of their faces were leaked on the media, nor was it anywhere online. They didn't have to worry about their identities being revealed, not just yet. But the protesters would come. The backlash was bound to happen. And when Obscurus and Animagus took to the streets again, they'll have to deal with the angry citizens and their cruelty while trying to do their job.

Credence went to bed with Modesty curled up in his arms and Chastity's back against his.

Newt sat with his brother as they finished tending to his wounds, then went to lay with George, falling asleep in his sandbox with him.

And Percival sat in his living room, fireplace lit and bottle of brandy in his hand. The cuff link laid on the coffee table in front of him, glinting at him mysteriously in the firelight. He took a swig of his drink, frowning at the burn along his throat, then sighed.

A twinge of pain shook his nerves. He clenched his jaw, twisted his head to the side, and repressed it as much as he could.

 


	13. Chapter 12: The Day After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously wanted to call this chapter 'the smoochening'

“You risked a lot, Percival.” Came one of the women's voices over the phone's speaker.

“He fixed the situation.” Came another woman's voice, sounding defensive as if _she_ were the one being scolded.

“Don't be too upset, honey. Manhattan is safe again, after all.” A third soothed, but the first woman scoffed in irritation.

“Ladies,” Percival spoke up, rubbing his temples as he sat back in his chair, “I did my job and I managed to save Obscurus as well. Can't we just call it a victory and let it pass?”

“Absolutely not.” The first said, abhorred, “If you were twenty years younger, you wouldn't have taken that risk. If you were twenty years younger, you would have crushed Obscurus where he stood to put an end to this mess before it even got this far!”

“I was a fool back then, too quick to violence.” Percival argued, frowning at his phone, “And if I were twenty years younger, it would have been Porpentina that I would have to crush.”

Silence reigned for a long moment, and was only broken by Porpentina's sister, Queenie, saying in a sing-song voice, “I think he has a point.”

“Tina would have never fallen for Grindelwald's influence in the first place--” The first began to argue, but both Percival and Queenie began to argue right back.

“You know that's just not true, Sera!”

“Grindelwald is a manipulative genius, and you know it. The moment anyone, and I mean _anyone_ , shows weakness or even a hint of malleability, he'll be the first to smell it.” Percival grunted, and Seraphina sighed heavily over the speaker.

“Fine. We all agree that, in a _hypothetical_ situation, Tina _may_ have fallen under Grindelwald's Imperius if, and only if, she were in a substantial amount of emotional distress. However, in the very _real_ situation of Obscurus' possession and _destruction_ of Manhattan, we have to come to an actual decision.” She directed professionally, much to Percival's disdain.

“What decision has to be made?” Tina asked, “The situation has been resolved—whether it was done properly or not doesn't matter anymore, does it?”

“Obscurus is no longer a threat, that much is true. However, we are still going to face the fallout of yesterday's events.” Seraphina explained carefully, and Percival sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Grindelwald will continue to influence and attack the public, and Obscurus and Animagus will continue to protect, but the people's trust has been shattered by what they witnessed. They have seen their hero be consumed by Grindelwald's influence and turn his back on them. Animagus may have fought to the end, but the question remains in everyone's minds: Can we truly trust these people with our lives?”

“So we know what the problem is, or will be. How do your propose we fix it?” Percival asked, and all three women fell silent in thought. Graves pressed the knuckles of his fist to his mouth, trying to come up with a solution himself, but short of discovering a highly potent amnesia-inducing miracle, there was nothing.

“What will happen to them?” Queenie asked softly, “To the boys?”

“If they continue to protect, they risk encountering enraged and scared citizens. There may be mobs, protesters, police forces.” Seraphina suggested, “If they step down, then Grindelwald will gain control over Manhattan. Whatever he has planned... we'll have to suffer the consequences.”

“So they continue to protect.” Tina pressed, “We can't let Grindelwald have his way. They'll have to deal with the backlash they'll suffer.”

“They're just _boys,_ Tina...” Queenie muttered, distraught, “What will it do to them to see the people they're risking their lives for grow to hate them?”

“No, Tina is right,” Seraphina agreed with a sort of finality.

“Manhattan is more important than their safety.” Percival grunted, glaring at the phone on his desk, “They'll continue to do their work. They'll continue to protect Manhattan and her populace.”

“And what? We sit by and watch as a mob snatches them away and... and hurt them? Kill them?” Queenie argued anxiously.

“That's exactly what we'll do.” Seraphina affirmed, and Percival sucked in a slow breath, closing his eyes.

“I don't believe this. I don't believe you. Especially _you_ , Tina...” Queenie stated emotionally, only to promptly hang up afterwards.

Tina sighed over the speaker and said, “I'll talk to her, make her understand.” And she hung up as well.

“I suppose I'll--” Percival began to bid his own farewell, but Seraphina called out to him before he could.

“Percival,” She said, “If you have a moment.”

Percival bit down on his tongue. Entertained the thought of telling her that he was actually very busy, but she knew it when he lied. Leaning back in his chair once again, Percival muttered, “What is it?”

“Tina told me about what you're doing. For the Barebones. Are... you sure that's a good idea?” She asked hesitantly, and Percival rolled his eyes.

“Why wouldn't it be?” He shot back at her, bitter. Seraphina drew in a short breath.

“I just have to wonder what your intentions are, Percival.” She explained slowly, and Percival felt his hackles raise, “You have been far too invested in Credence ever since he started at Ilvermorny. Far too protective. And I have to wonder if... if it has to do with his lineage--”

“Sera...” Percival muttered in warning, but it didn't seem to stop the woman.

“After all, I understand you and Grindelwald were unusually close during our time together, when he was still a part of us--”

“Seraphina.”

“And I know what he did was... _unforgivable_ , but... Percival, Credence isn't--”

“Seraphina!” Percival shouted this time, and finally, the woman fell silent. Percival took a moment to draw himself back in, to reign in his anger so he didn't snap, but when he spoke, it leaked into his words anyways, “If you haven't noticed, Seraphina, we are _no longer_ a team. Our team ended after he left—after you _told_ Porpentina and Queenie to give up their Miraculouses. After you told _me_ to. You may have been our leader back then, but you have _no_ right meddling in my personal life.”

“Percival, I'm just worried--” She tried to argue, but Graves picked up his phone and spat out a cold goodbye before hanging up. He wouldn't be having this conversation with her. He couldn't stand her pity. She didn't understand the relationship he had with Credence, anyways, the bond Percival knew was between them.

Leaning back in his chair, Percival looked over his recently fixed office. It didn't take much to put everything back into sorts, especially with his powers as The Director. He supposed it was nice, having telekinesis, especially when it came to redecorating.

Clearing his throat, Percival stood from his desk and left the room, looking first into what would be the girls' empty bedroom, then into what would be Credence's empty bedroom. His heart ached deep within his chest, but he reminded himself that it wouldn't be long now. He'll have him soon, along with his sisters. It was only a matter of time.

\-------------

Credence lay in his bed, taking the day off from school. It wasn't hard to convince Chastity to call in, posing as their mother. Usually, she would insist he go, but Credence was sore from yesterday's craze, and he needed to rest his battered body.

He brushed his fingers against the pendant on his chest as he stared up into the ceiling, his mind racing. Yesterday was all a blur, a muddled memory of flying through Manhattan and the overwhelming sense of fear and rage. He knew Grindelwald had been controlling him, but only in hindsight could he see how obvious it was.

He remembered hurting Animagus. He remembered watching as he transformed back into his powerless self, and the shock was what overwhelmed the rage. He remembered seeing him that second time, dressed ridiculously to conceal his identity. That time, when he was revealed, Credence didn't feel the shock, and the rage continued to boil. He thought for one horrified moment that he was going to hurt Newt more, maybe actually kill him, but then Newt...

He...

Credence felt his face heat up and he covered it with his hands. It wasn't fair. He only _just_ had this realization—and that was Newt's fault, too! He didn't know what to do, he never even fantasized having a crush on someone, girl or guy. Was he supposed to confront him about it? Were they considered... together? Would they kiss more?

Curling up on his side, Credence uncovered his face and instead hugged his pillow, a frown set on his face. He didn't even know how to kiss properly. He was seventeen going on eighteen and he never once googled 'two guys kissing' in his life. It was never a priority, and with Mary Lou breathing down his neck whenever she was near, he knew he wouldn't have had the chance.

Would Newt know what to do from here? Did he kiss Credence just because he was scared, or did he really mean it? Did _he_ want to do it more? It was all so confusing, and Credence tossed and turned on his bed until his sore body protested and he shot to his feet.

There was no point wallowing in his own mind. If he wanted to know, he had to go find out. He knew where Theseus lived, and therefore where Newt lived, and he knew Newt was at home because he didn't go to class. It was still morning. He had time.

He walked because he didn't have the money for the bus. He had his tattered hoodie over his head, as if afraid that if he made eye-contact with anyone, they would know who he was and what he had done. He shuffled by unnoticed, however, and his paranoid mind was soothed. The air was crisp and the wind not too harsh, but the rain had all but gone, only a few lingering clouds hanging fat in the air. The sidewalks weren't all too busy either, and what Credence remembered to have been covered with rubble and asphalt were fixed and unscarred, as if yesterday really didn't happen.

He passed by a newsstand, covered in newspapers no one cared to buy, and his eye caught on the front page. The headline read: SUPER HERO MORE DANGEROUS THAN SUPER VILLAIN. The first image underneath displayed Obscurus toppling cars and tearing nearby buildings, all while panicked citizens ran from him. He lingered only for a moment to examine the picture, then ducked his head and continued to walk.

By the time he made it to Theseus' house, it was past midday. The streets were a little busier, but Credence didn't pay them any mind. Instead, he walked up to the door of the house and held up his fist, considering knocking. He didn't, however, because he didn't know if Newt would be alone.

Glancing behind him as discretely as he can, Credence stepped away from the door and instead sneaked into the alleyway, peering up at one of the second story windows. He didn't know which would be Newt's, but it was going to be his ticket inside unnoticed. After making sure a second time that no one was watching, he pulled his pendant out from under his shirt and whispered to it, “Hallow, a little help, maybe?”

The little wisp crept halfway out of the pendant, somehow appearing just as exhausted and sore as Credence felt, but agreed nonetheless. With another brief whisper, he was Obscurus once again, and he silently crept up to the second-floor windows, peering inside both.

Newt wasn't in either. He didn't really expect him to be. He tried a window and found it unlocked, so he pushed it open as high as it could go before he slipped inside. He stepped lightly onto the carpet, turning around and closing the window afterward, and then he looked at the room he was in.

It was clean, organized, and had pictures of Theseus and his friends. Credence sniffed and walked towards the door, popping it open without a moment's hesitation.

As he closed the door behind him, a voice came from all the way downstairs, calling out a curious, “Theseus? Are you still home?” Obscurus felt his heart still, and he realized how bad of an idea this was. What was he thinking, breaking and entering into Newts—into _Animagus'_ home? Why didn't he just knock like a normal person?

Panicking, Obscurus glanced up and down the hall, then quickly slipped into the next bedroom, which just had to be Newt's. It was chaotic in an organized sort of way, the bed was unmade, and there was laundry thrown haphazardly into a pile in the corner. Cursing under his breath, Obscurus hurried towards the window and began to open it, completely missing the sound of feet pattering up the staircase. When the door opened, Obscurus jumped and spun around, coming face-to-face with a surprised Newt.

“S-sorry--” Obscurus immediately began to apologize, his face growing red, “I just... I wanted to....”

“It's okay.” Newt suddenly spoke up, his brows furrowing, “Is... is everything alright?”

“Huh?”

“Is everything alright?” Newt asked again, gesturing at Obscurus' outfit, “You're all suited up.”

“Oh.” Obscurus looked down at himself as if he only just realized that he was, and then he cleared his throat and gestured to the window, “I—er... I let myself in...” A moment passed, and then Obscurus was clearing his throat and changing back to his everyday attire, face still flushed.

“You broke into my house?” Newt asked, his eyebrows lifting, but Credence was surprised to see a hint of amusement in his eyes. Reluctantly, he nodded in answer, and Newt chuckled a little and stuffed his hands into his bathrobe.

And then he realized he was in his bathrobe and boxers with a jump. “Oh—ah, let me put on some... some pants, I suppose.”

“No, you don't have to,” Credence blurted out, and when Newt shot him a surprised and embarrassed look, he himself blushed and added, “I mean, I could just go! I—I didn't mean t-to intrude--”

“Oh! No, it's okay!” Newt said with a breath of relief, a small smile pulling at his lips, “I... I've wanted to meet you like this for so long. Well, not like _this,”_ He gestured to how under-dressed he was, “But I mean... face-to-face. Without the masks. You... don't know how much I've.... erm...” He cut himself off suddenly, then turned to his closet and dug through it until he pulled out a pair of sweats, which he slipped on without further ado.

Now a bit more decent, Newt turned to Credence and asked, “Do you want to see my pets?”

Credence smiled a little, still a bit hesitant, but just as excited, and he gave him the slightest nod. Newt grinned and grabbed Credence by the wrist, yanking him out of his bedroom and down the stairs, all the while chattering about each and every one of his pets, managing to fit their names, species, favorite food, and sleeping habits in the two minutes it took to get to the basement.

Once inside, Newt pulled Credence to the ratty red carpet in the center of the room, pushing on his shoulders until he was sitting down. Turning away from him, Newt asked, “Okay, which do you want to meet first? Let's see.... oh! Modesty _loved_ Susan.”

He approached the habitat for his anaconda, and Credence felt his heart jump into his throat. “You let my sister hold a snake?” He asked, but Newt snorted as he gathered her in his arms and brought her back to the carpet, kneeling down in front of Credence.

“Don't worry, Susan is completely harmless. The worse she can do is a bite; she isn't even venomous.” He reassured him, holding out Susan who tested the air with a flick of her tongue, “Just don't move too quickly and let her get comfortable. She's a real sweetheart. Loves to cuddle.”

Credence slowly took Susan from Newt's hands, gazing into her slitted eyes in wonder as she seemed to gauge her new handler. Her tongue flickered out once, twice, and then, seemingly content, she began to slither up Credence's arm and curl around his shoulder. Credence flinched and shuddered a little, but when the snake wrapped around the crown of his head like a macabre hat, he began to laugh.

“Sorry, she absolutely adores hair,” Newt grinned, wrapping the rest of her long body around Credence's arm, letting him have full control of her. “Tell me if she gets too tight, though. Sometimes she doesn't know her own strength.”

“It's nice.” Credence reassured him, flashing a smile towards his companion, “She's nice. I can see why Modesty liked her.”

Newt absolutely beamed at that, looking as if Credence just gave him the world on a silver platter, and then he was standing up again and breathlessly said, “Oh! Oh, I _have_ to introduce you to George! Come now, Susan,” He picked up the anaconda with gentle hands, moving her back towards her glass cage even when she tried to worm her way back to Credence. The Barebone boy laughed under his breath when Susan was put away, and watched as Newt crossed the room and went to a closed door, next.

When he opened it, a furry brown blob of fur shot out of the room, yapping away as if he had a whole story to tell. Credence looked on in awe as the tiny fox danced around Newt's feet, his puffy tail wagging and his ears perked straight up. The moment George caught sight of Credence, however, he immediately went on the defense, ducking between Newt's ankles and growling.

“Oh, stop that, George,” Newt reprimanded lightly, squatting down to scoop him up into his arms. He approached Credence with a smile, then sat cross-legged in front of him with George in his lap, “This is George. He's really territorial, especially with men.”

“He likes you, though,” Credence mentioned, holding out a closed fist for George to sniff at, evaluating whether or not Credence posed as a threat.

“Yeah, well...” Newt laughed shyly, his cheeks an adorable pink, “I think I'm more like his mother. I had him since he was a baby, so he's pretty attached to me.”

“He's amazing,” Credence complimented, and George's ears slowly perked up. He gave Credence a preliminary lick on his knuckles, then decided that was enough interaction with a stranger for the day and turned back to Newt, purring at the young man holding him. “He must be a very intelligent creature.”

“Oh, he is!” Newt said delightedly, letting George burrow his way down the collar of Newt's shirt without batting an eye. “He absolutely hates my brother Theseus, you know. He likes to sneak up into his room and tear holes in his unmentionables.” Newt chuckled, glancing down when the fox slipped inside completely, making his shirt bulge out at his stomach. “He even knows how to open the door to his sand room. Sometimes I'll be doing homework and he'll just come trotting along as if he owns the house!”

They laughed together, and Credence swore he never felt more at ease around someone else before. Newt was just so easy to talk to, it was like they were Obscurus and Animagus still, but closer. It was far more personal, far more intimate to sit here in Newt's basement and talk about his animals. And Credence... he loved it.

Looking around at the various cages and tanks and habitats, Credence mentioned, “I always see you transform into different sorts of animals, but I've never seen you change into one of these. How come?”

When he looked back at Newt he saw the young man had his arms wrapped protectively around the bulge in his shirt that was George, and he gave a simple shrug, “From what I understand, my ability to change into animals includes anything I care to imagine. So long as it works biologically, with eyes, a nose, lungs, and appendages, I can transform into almost any living creature that I'd like, fiction or non-fiction. Why be something normal when I can be extraordinary?”

Credence nodded a little, surprisingly understanding what Newt meant. They had powers, why not use them to the best of their abilities? Animagus had always been a carefree sort of guy, that's what Credence envied of him, so it made sense that Newt would be the same.

As they fell silent, Credence's mind began to wander to more troubling things. His actions yesterday, Grindelwald, the appearance of The Director... It was a lot to process, especially only overnight, but it still plagued him like a nightmare that wouldn't go away.

“Newt...” Credence spoke up, and Newt's head jolted up, his attention solely on his company, “Everything that happened yesterday... Everything I did... Do you really think it was only Grindelwald that made me do it?”

“I do,” Newt confirmed, his voice growing soft. He lifted his shirt just a bit, allowing George to slip out and scamper back into his heated sand room. “You wouldn't have done anything like that without someone forcing you to.”

“Are you sure?” Credence asked, his brows furrowing, “I mean... yesterday was such a blur, but... but I almost feel disappointed that I didn't... that I....” He bit his bottom lip, then shook his head and mumbled, “No, never mind, you're probably right.”

“No, tell me,” Newt implored, scooting closer to Credence and settling a hand on his knee, “I'd like to know what you felt.”

Credence met Newt's eyes for a moment, then ducked his head again and instead stared at the back of Newt's freckled hand. It was warm, where it rested on his leg. Warm and comforting, a small gesture of support, even outside of the mask. Credence tried to gather his courage, and when he felt strong enough, he said, “The anger I felt... It wasn't... new. I've always felt it, every day. Yesterday, I guess when Grindelwald got me, I just felt...” He sighed and closed his eyes again. Stiffly, he muttered, “I felt relief in my anger. I found a way to express it. And I... I think I liked it...”

Newt's hand squeezed on his knee and then disappeared. Credence clenched his jaw and kept his eyes squeezed shut, knowing that this was just too much, and that he had scared Newt away, and who would ever love a monster like Credence anyways? He was twisted and broken, damaged by Grindelwald's touch. He had tasted the true strength of the darkness within him and desired seconds. There was no hope for him, not even the public liked him anymore.

And then Newt's hand was grazing his jaw, and Credence found himself gasping and leaning into the touch, his eyes slowly opening, though he only looked at Newt's wrist. The thumb stroking his cheek was soon followed by his fingers, and then his palm, and Newt pulled Credence closer until he had his head tucked against his collarbone. Running thing fingers through black hair, Newt whispered to Credence, “It's not your fault, Credence. None of it.”

Credence let out a weak sob, embarrassed that he dissolved into tears, but unable to stop the overflow of emotions. Hesitantly, he put his hands on Newt's sides, just below his ribs, and he cherished the intimacy. “I wanted to do it, though,” He told Newt in a thick voice, “I knew it was wrong and I knew I was hurting people but I.... I didn't even _care_.”

Newt still held him, even when Credence felt like he was trembling right out of his skin, and he cooed and hummed in a soothing tone, brushing his fingers through his hair and rubbing his thumb against the nape of his neck. When Credence's sobs became meek whimpers, Newt spoke up.

“We don't know how the Imperius works,” Newt said. Credence sniffed, but stayed silent, allowing his partner to continue. “It grants the inflicted with powers, certainly, but do we really know how it controls them? It's not like Grindelwald is right beside them, telling them exactly what to do. They aren't puppets, exactly. They're just... reverted back to animalistic instinct.”

This time, Credence pulled away from Newt's chest to look up at him, a confused frown marring his face. “What do you mean?” He inquired.

“Well, animals thrive on the basic desire to survive and pass on their genes, right?” Newt began to explain, looking away thoughtfully, “Humans come equipped with a morality scale, a way to tell right from wrong, but what happens if that goes away? If the Imperius somehow dampens our morals, then we're back to relying on our basic instincts. You know, bite back when bitten. Protect the self. Protect the family.”

Focusing on Credence, now, Newt snapped his fingers and said excitedly, “That must be it! Something bad or stressful happens in the victim's life, something that will allow the Imperius in. And then, with morality out of the way, that enables the victims to rampage and destroy without feeling guilt!”

“I... still don't understand...” Credence admitted, but Newt was smiling at him still, and he settled both hands on Credence's shoulders.

“I mean, everything you did yesterday isn't your fault, even if you wanted to do it. Everyone wants to do something bad in their life, Credence. I wanted to smuggle in a slow loris, you wanted to destroy half of Manhattan--”

“I _did_ destroy half of Manhattan--” Credence tried to argue, but Newt only kept talking.

“--But neither of us did so because we knew it was immoral—well, that slow loris is questionable, but that's beside the point. What I _mean_ is,” Newt sucked in a breath, as if physically repressing his urge to blather, and said, “The _only_ reason you destroyed Manhattan was because of Grindelwald. You wanted to do it, sure. You enjoyed it, fine. But would you have done it if Grindelwald never got a hold of you?”

Credence hesitated to answer. No, he immediately wanted to say, but how could he be so sure? Newt watched him silently, and when he seemed to realize his issue, Newt restated his question.

“Would you go out and do it again?”

“No!” Credence answered this time, and he was sure of it, “I never want to feel that way again! I never want to be responsible for that much pain again!”

Newt smiled at him, a gentle, admiring smile, and he made a gesture with his hands before saying, “See? It's _not_ your fault because you _wouldn't_ do it, even if you wanted to. You would have never done it if Grindelwald didn't intervene.” He stroked Credence's cheek, then placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, before saying passionately, “You're still _you_ , Obscurus. Nothing's changed you. Not even him.”

Credence felt his eyes tear up all over again, and he pressed his lips into a hard line to try and repress them. When he looked up into Newt's eyes, however, he was surprised and oddly comforted to see that Newt was tearing up as well.

The younger boy suddenly pulled away, smiling in embarrassment as he wiped at his eyes. His hands trembled just the slightest bit, and he muttered, “Ah... I'm sorry. Good old emotional Newt, always crying at the smallest things.” He sniffled and brushed away his tears, then smiled back up at Credence.

“It's okay,” Credence told him, taking Newt's hand in a brave gesture of support, intertwining their fingers until their palms were pressed together. “It's nice. It means you care deeply. Don't you?”

Newt let out a breath, relieved, and he squeezed Credence's hand as he nodded his head. “Theseus always said I was just soft-hearted, a pushover.”

“I don't believe it.” Credence reassured him quietly, pulling at Newt's hand, bringing him even closer. Their knees were touching now, and both Credence and Newt were leaning towards each other, “You're gentle, empathetic, but never a pushover.”

Newt chuckled a little, a shy little noise, and he glanced fleetingly into Credence's eyes before mumbling, “It's so weird...”

“What?”

“Knowing so much of you while knowing nothing at all...” Newt explained, “It's like you're a stranger and my best friend at the same time.”

Credence smiled, then asked, “Would you be more comfortable if I had the mask on?”

“Ah...” Newt ducked his head, suddenly shy, “I-I don't know. I've wanted to see you without your mask, but I guess I never really thought about... how to act.”

“Newt?” Credence muttered. Newt clenched his jaw, and slowly met Credence's eye, struggling not to look away. They stared at one another for a long, tense moment, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” Newt replied immediately, breathless, leaning forward until he could feel Credence's breath against his skin.

“Why did you kiss me yesterday?” Credence asked, and Newt blinked before he leaned back.

“Oh.” He hummed, looking away once again, “Well, I—er... do you want the honest version or the romantic version?”

“Romantic?” Credence asked in surprise, not expecting the grin that spread across his lips.

“I couldn't bear to be in your arms any longer without letting you know my true feelings,” Newt said poetically, and Credence went bright red and turned his head away.

“A-and the honest version?” He asked next, and this time, Newt looked just as embarrassed.

“I, uh... I thought you were going to kill me,” He explained with a shrug, “I needed to cross at least one thing off of my bucket list. And it damn well could have been that slow loris...”

“Kissing me was on your bucket list?” Credence asked, and Newt only shrugged. Blinking dumbly, Credence then asked, “You have a bucket list?”

“We're heroes. We're in constant danger.” Newt said humorously, and Credence laughed in response. “Can _I_ ask something, Credence?”

“Okay,” Credence relented, though he had to admit, he was a little anxious.

“Why did you break into my house?”

Credence pressed his lips into a line, and cheekily responded, “Honest version or the romantic version?”

“Romantic.” Newt declared without a second thought, and Credence bit his lip.

“I, uh... I didn't actually think of anything to say...” He admitted, and Newt chuckled delightedly.

“Alright. Honest, then.” Newt relented, smiling when Credence sighed in relief.

“I... wanted to know... well,” Credence cleared his throat and tried again, “You see, when you k-kissed me, I....” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, and started once again, “I just was wondering if... maybe... if perhaps...”

Newt sighed, a fond look in his eyes, and he reached out to Credence, taking his face in both of his hands. Credence effectively stuttered himself into silence, staring wide-eyed at Newt, but the smaller of the two of them only smiled warmly.

“Try again,” He encouraged him, “Close your eyes if it will make it easier.”

“Right,” Credence breathed, squeezing his eyes shut, “Okay. I was wondering--”

Newt pulled him in close and pressed their lips together, gentler this time, fueled only by desire instead of fear. He felt Credence stiffen up in his hands at first, wondered if Credence was going to pull away. He made sure his hands on Credence's face was loose enough for him to do so if needed. And when he felt Credence retreat, he let him go with a sigh.

And then Credence was grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him back in, kissing him at a new angle, and Newt felt a shiver shoot up his spine at the sensation. Credence's lips were wet and warm, sliding against Newt's own. The hand at the back of his neck played at the ends of his hair, tickling him until his entire body was covered in goosebumps. Newt placed one of his hands on Credence's thigh, the other on his shoulder, and then he was pushing forward until Credence fell back with a grunt.

Their kiss was broken when Credence hit the ground, Newt gasping when Credence knocked his head against the carpet.

“A-are you alright?” Newt stammered, bringing a hand up to check Credence's head, but Credence only smiled and covered Newt's hand with his own, nodding against his touch.

“Yes... I think I'll be fine,” Credence mumbled, placing his hand back at the nape of Newt's neck and pulling him down for another unpracticed kiss, delighting in the breathy noise that rolled from the back of Newt's throat.

 


	14. Chapter 13: The Honeymoon Phase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't think this chapter deserves an M rating. There's just kissing and necking, really.
> 
> but do let me know.
> 
> Also sorry about the wait. I literally rewrote this chapter like two times and I didn't even get to the next morning like I had planned.

It had been two weeks already. Credence sat in the back of the classroom, staring out the window like always. He tapped his pencil rhythmically against his open copy of _Hamlet_ , feeling restless.

Grindelwald hadn't attacked these past two weeks. Ever since Credence's possession, it was like he completely vanished. He didn't understand it; if he were Grindelwald, he would have used the panic stirred by the whole Obscurus debacle to cause more trouble. If control over Manhattan was his goal, he certainly missed his chance.

The people were still rattled by Obscurus' frenzy. He wasn't looking forward to when Grindelwald finally attacked. He wasn't sure how they would react, even after having this time to recover.

Assuming Grindelwald was going to attack, of course. He had stopped for some reason, but whatever reason it may be, it couldn't have been good. They had to be ready for whatever Grindelwald had planned. Both him and Animagus.

His thoughts took a turn, then, and he felt himself smile. Animagus... Newt... He couldn't think about him without remembering their kisses and their hands on his skin. That first night he snuck into Newt's home was the only time he went. He couldn't leave his sisters, after all, especially with only one week left.

But that didn't mean he didn't see him. Before he left, Credence told Newt he wasn't sure if he would come back, just because he was scared people would see him and what they might do. Newt understood, and had reluctantly let Credence go... only to break into _his_ house two nights later, suited up as Animagus.

He showed up again and again, sneaking into Credence's room as a different animal each time, and they laid together or chatted or kissed. Credence loved it when they kissed, but he particularly loved the nights when they just laid there and talked for so long that Newt would fall asleep beside him.

“ _Psst!”_ Came from Credence's left, shaking him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at Theseus, who was giving Credence a curious look.

“You're so distracted. What are you thinking about?” Theseus whispered, leaning his cheek against his fist. Credence felt his cheeks heat up, and he ducked his head in shame. What was he supposed to tell him? That he was thinking about kissing his little brother?

“You're blushing,” Theseus pointed out with a sly grin, “ _Who_ are you thinking about, huh?”

“I-I...” Credence stammered in return, but they both fell silent when, at the front of the room, Professor Graves cleared his throat loudly. Credence bit his lip and turned back to his book, still blushing. They were supposed to be reading silently, and here he was, wondering if he was going to see Newt again tonight.

Theseus turned back to his book with a chuckle, continuing to read. Credence just sighed and tried to focus, but his thoughts were still swimming. What was Grindelwald doing? Would he see Newt tonight? Was Grindelwald gone for good? Would Newt kiss him some more?

Professor Graves began to walk around the classroom, making sure his students were reading. When he passed by Credence, he briefly set his hand on his shoulder and squeezed before moving on. Credence glanced up at the Professor's retreating back, frowning when Graves began to scold a girl in the front for using her phone.

He watched him for a long minute, frowning at the back of his head. When Graves finished lecturing the girl and confiscated her phone, he retreated to the front of the room and settled at his desk, dropping the phone into his top drawer, locking it right after. He looked up, scanned the classroom, then met Credence's eyes.

Credence felt his shoulders stiffen, but he didn't look away. Graves didn't, either. Instead, the Professor leaned back in his seat and adjusted the cuff of his shirt, drawing Credence's attention to the golden cuff link there, different from the one on his left wrist. His Miraculous? Credence met Graves' eyes again, frowning, and Graves merely tapped a finger against his lips, as if they had a secret to share.

Credence shifted in his seat, then turned back to his book, struggling to read the words in front of him. He wasn't getting any of this, nothing was sticking. He read and reread the same line almost ten times, he swore, but he couldn't remember anything past the first two words. Becoming frustrated, Credence huffed and set his head in both hands.

“ _Psst_!” Came again, and Credence all but glared at Theseus before he remembered that he wasn't actually angry at anyone except Shakespeare. Theseus gave him a forgiving smile, obviously understanding Credence's annoyance, and he whispered, “My place after school? We can get your sisters first.”

Relief flowed through him as quickly as his breath did, and Credence replied thankfully, “Please.”

Theseus grinned and nodded, then turned back to his book. Credence turned back towards the window and let himself daydream again. Theseus would be able to explain this story better than Shakespeare, anyways.

Not long after, the final bell rang, and the students began to file from the classroom. Professor Graves reminded them in a foreboding tone that they had the test at the end of the week, but his students were more interested in getting home than listening to him.

“Come on, we can catch the first bus to your place if we hurry,” Theseus said with a grin, tossing his book into his back before he swung it over his shoulder. Credence cleaned up his own desk and went to follow him.

They passed Professor Graves' desk, but the Professor only bid them a good day. Credence felt like he dodged a bullet. The Professor was a good man, he was certain, but every time he made Credence stay late, he could almost feel the rumors about him spreading.

Going to get his sisters was easy. Convincing them to come along even easier; Modesty was excited to see Newt's pets again and Chastity mentioned that their wi-fi was a lot faster. Credence figured she just liked being there instead of home alone. The thought made him happy, but he felt a little guilty for dragging her out. He'll have to apologize when they get home after tutoring.

Getting back to Theseus' house was easy as well, Credence holding Modesty's hand on the bus ride while Theseus and Chastity sat on the bench in front of them. They got there in half an hour, and Theseus opened the door for them.

“Newt! We have company!” Theseus called out, going straight for the dining table and tossing his back on top while the Barebones toed off their shoes.

“Can I go into the basement?” Modesty asked immediately, squeezing Credence's hand.

“No, Modesty, you need Newt's permission to go--” Credence began to say, but was ultimately cut off when something crashed upstairs, startling all four of them.

“Newt?” Theseus called out, and Credence was just about to head up the stairs himself when the young Scamander came racing down them, his hair damp and a bathrobe tied tightly around his waist. He took one look at Credence and immediately beamed, his bright smile showing all of his teeth.

“I thought I heard your voice!” He said ecstatically, taking a few steps forward to greet them, but Theseus stepped in his way and pushed him backwards again.

“Newton!” He hissed, obviously embarrassed, “You're in your bathrobe! Go get dressed!”

“Oh! Yes, you're right—sorry!” Newt said in a high-pitched voice, tugging the bathrobe tighter around himself with a flushed face. Chastity looked just as embarrassed as he did while Modesty was giggling into her hands. Credence, meanwhile, was focusing on not opening his mouth at all, lest he say something to make it worse.

“I'll be—erm...” Newt laughed weakly, then turned and ran back upstairs, slipping halfway up and knocking his knee with a yelp, but he recovered quickly and hurried away.

“That boy is a mess,” Theseus sighed, and he turned back to Credence with a smile, “Sorry about him. I've never seen him that excited before, actually.”

Credence blushed, but figured that Newt hadn't told Theseus about them—if there _was_ a them—and he put his hands on Modesty's shoulders, saying softly, “He and Modesty got along well.”

“You're right. He's probably itching to show off his new pet.” Theseus chuckled, and Modesty lit up like a light bulb.

“He got a new pet?” She asked loudly, rocking back and forth on her heels anxiously. She looked up at Credence with begging eyes, tugging on his shirt and pointing at the basement door with a whine.

“Be patient,” Credence bid her, and when she began to pout, he pushed her towards the couch and told her, “Go sit with Chastity and wait for Newt to come back downstairs, okay? Then you can ask him.”

“Okay...” She huffed, stomping across the living room to sit with Chastity, who was already making herself comfortable and looking at pictures on her phone. Credence smiled when Chastity let Modesty sidle up next to her and rest her head on Chastity's shoulder. They had come a long way, and Credence was proud of them. Unable to help himself, he crept up behind them and gave them both a kiss on the tops of their heads, getting an irritated groan from one and a soft giggle from the other.

“Come on, Credence, Hamlet awaits!” Theseus called him over to the dining room table, and Credence left his sisters so he and Theseus could study. They took out their books and flipped to where they left off in class, Theseus taking out his notes and Credence preparing a blank page to start jotting them down. “Alright, so,” Theseus began, bringing Credence's attention to his own page of notes as he explained a few lines of text. Credence wrote down what Theseus told him, relaxing with each new line. With Theseus' help, he wouldn't fail the test, not completely. That was definitely a weight off of his shoulders.

“Back!” Newt suddenly announced, appearing in the living room fully dressed, much to everyone's surprise. Theseus looked Newt up and down in shock while Credence merely stared, mouth agape and pencil falling from his fist. Newt smiled at the two of them, unfazed by their stares, and he joined them at the table, sitting so close to Credence that their knees were pressed together.

“You're.... dressed.” Theseus pointed out, his brows high on his forehead.

“Yeah? You told me to get dressed...”

“I know, but I mean... You're _dressed_.” Theseus emphasized, gesturing at his little brother, “In a shirt and _jeans_. I didn't even know you _owned_ jeans still!”

“Ha, ha, ha.” Newt retorted sarcastically, face devoid of amusement, “We have company over. I didn't think it was appropriate to be running around in my boxers.”

Theseus leaned back in his seat, aghast, as if Newt had just slapped him, and he said, “You _always_ run around in your boxers!”

“You look good,” Credence complimented Newt in a soft voice, brushing his hand against Newt's arm, and immediately Newt glowed in self-confidence. He ran a hand through his hair—dried and fluffy, but definitely brushed—and he cast his eyes away in a shy gesture.

“Thank you,” He replied, just as quietly, but he leaned closer to Credence all the same. Modesty peered at them from over the back of the couch, silently pleading with her eyes. When Credence looked up at her, he smiled and tilted his head towards Newt.

“Newt?” She called out, catching the young man's attention, “Can I play with your pets again?”

“Of course!” Newt exclaimed happily, getting up from his seat with a brush of his hand against Credence's shoulder. He went over to the couch to collect Modesty and brought her to the basement, all under the watchful eye of Credence.

As soon as they vanished downstairs, Credence brought his attention back to his book and continued to study. Theseus and Credence mulled over their books, exchanging notes and ideas. Chastity remained on the couch, legs curled up underneath herself as she browsed the web. Newt and Modesty didn't return from the basement, but her laughter that came up the stairs was enough to soothe Credence.

By the time Mr. and Mrs. Scamander returned home, it was dark out and they were all hungry. Mr. Scamander started on dinner almost immediately, not even changing out of his work suit. Mrs. Scamander, meanwhile, looked absolutely ecstatic at a full house.

“The Barebones again!” She cheered, going right up to Credence and giving him a big kiss on the cheek, then hurrying to Chastity to do the same, “And where is miss Modesty?”

“Playing with Newt,” Theseus said, putting his books away to clear off the table, and Credence followed suit, “He's been dying to show off his new pet. What was it... Gloria? Glinda?”

“Gertrude!” Newt said as he appeared in the doorway, Modesty in tow, “Her name is Gertrude.”

“Newt says she's a slow loris!” Modesty exclaimed, scurrying up to Credence's side, “She has the biggest eyes I've ever seen!”

“A slow loris?” Credence said in surprise, peering up at Newt who seemed particularly interested in the sleeve of his shirt. “I thought those were--”

“Wow, that dinner smells amazing, Dad!” Newt blurted, escaping the scene and entering the kitchen, much to Credence's amusement. Theseus rolled his eyes and moved his backpack from the table, grabbing Credence's as well to set them both near the front door. Mrs. Scamander greeted Modesty with a kiss on her forehead and stroked her hair.

“Whenever you Barebones come around, I feel like I finally have two daughters,” Ethel sighed dreamily, and then she shot Theseus and Newt a cold look and added, “And a _decent_ son.”

“Hey, Newt actually got dressed today!” Theseus pointed out, and Newt tugged at his own shoot proudly.

“Yes, and proceeded to get sand all in his hair.” Ethel huffed, standing up straighter and going over to her youngest, brushing his hair with her fingers, “Were you laying in George's box again?”

“We were cuddling! He looks absolutely adorable when he naps!” Newt argued, and Credence snorted into his hand.

“Well, at least you cleaned yourself up,” Ethel relented, finally offering him a kind smile, “Now you and Theseus help your father with dinner. Our guests can go wash up before dinner, sound alright?”

“Yes, Mrs. Scamander,” Credence responded gently, getting up from the dining room table to guide his sisters into the bathroom, casting one last look over his shoulder to see Newt smiling at him.

Once they were all washed up and dinner was set, the whole family plus the Barebones gathered at the table to eat. Muttering a quick grace, Credence allowed Chastity and Modesty to start digging in, and he ate at his languid pace like before, keeping a watchful eye on his sisters' plates. Newt, sitting across from him, was obviously trying not to bring too much attention to himself all the while looking up at Credence and trying to meet his eye.

Theseus was talking about school and his classes while they ate, sometimes dragging Credence into a conversation to agree with him or offer his opinion. Mrs. Scamander started gushing about Newt finding an after-school activity to participate in. “It's so nice to see him get out of the house every once-in-a-while! I just wish he chose something other than astronomy, however.”

“Mom,” Newt whined, stabbing at his mashed potatoes in irritation, despite Mrs. Scamander's indignant huff.

“What? I hate seeing my boy run out the house in the middle of the night!”

“I leave at eight, mom, not the middle of the night,” Newt persisted, frowning at the woman, “Besides, how else am I supposed to study astronomy?”

“Oh, I know...” Ethel relented with a pout, “I just wish you would take Theseus along at _least_.”

“Theseus has to do his homework,” Newt immediately said, piquing Theseus' interest, “He wouldn't want to tag along anyways. He wouldn't be interested in astronomy.”

“Oh, I wouldn't, would I?” Theseus grinned, his eyes alight with mischief, “And why wouldn't I be interested, little brother? Sounds like you're hiding something.”

“Thees,” Newt whined, his face turning red.

“Or _someone!_ ” Theseus chuckled, and Newt groaned and covered his face. Ethel gasped in delight and turned to her youngest, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing.

“Did my little boy find a little friend?” She gushed, and all three Barebone children bit their lips to keep from laughing.

“ _Mom_ , don't say it like that!” Newt complained, completely embarrassed, and Theseus jumped right back on him.

“Ah-ha! He didn't deny it!” He claimed, pointing his fork at Newt, “Newton Scamander, you have a crush!”

Newt whined and looked desperately towards Credence, mouthing the words “Help me!” Credence fought back his smile but tried to step in, nonetheless.

“Mr. Scamander, your cooking is just as amazing as before,” Credence complimented, much to the older man's delight.

“I told you, I would be testing out every family recipe on you three! Now tell me, which do you prefer--?”

“Don't change the subject!” Theseus cut in, waving a hand in between Credence and his father, “Newt, come on, tell me about him! Is he older than you? Have you _kissed_ him?”

“Theseus,” Ethel scolded, although she looked just as interested in Newt's love life as Theseus did. Newt, meanwhile, was as red as a cherry, both from the embarrassment and annoyance at his brother's meddling.

“Is he your crush or are you two _dating_?” Theseus asked coyly, and finally, Newt snapped.

“He's _not_ my boyfriend!” Newt yelled, slamming his fork onto the table, “Just leave it alone, Theseus!” Shoving his chair back, Newt got to his feet and stormed towards the basement, slamming the door behind him with an air of finality. Both Theseus and Ethel grimaced, already feeling guilty for embarrassing poor Newt, but neither of them moved to get up to talk to him.

Credence glanced between the two of them, then stared at the door, hoping Newt would come back out and rejoin them, but when it was obvious he planned to stay down there, Credence quickly shoveled his food onto his sisters' plates, making sure they both got half of everything. Without another word, Credence got to his feet and followed Newt into the basement, ignoring Theseus' oppressive stare that weighed heavily on his shoulders.

He closed the door behind him and slowly descended the stairs. When he was about halfway, Newt called out, “Go _away,_ Theseus, I swear--!”

Credence bit his lip and continued to descend, and it was only when he reached the floor did Newt turn around with George in his arms, shouting, “I'm not afraid to sic George on you!” But when he realized who it was that came to comfort him, he visibly relaxed and muttered, “Oh, Credence... Sorry.”

“Don't be,” Credence reassured him gently, approaching him at a languid pace so Newt knew what his intentions were, “I should be sorry. I didn't know you were taking astronomy. I must have been taking you away from your activities.”

Newt snorted at that and scratched George's head, saying flatly, “You think my mom would let me out of the house if I _didn't_ have a reason? I wasn't going to tell her I was sneaking off to see _you_.”

Credence tried not to be hurt, but it must have shown somehow, for a moment later Newt was tucking George into one arm and reaching out with his other, taking Credence's hand. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. If she knew about you—about _us—_ she wouldn't let you come over anymore. I couldn't do that to Theseus _or_ you.”

Credence sighed and squeezed Newt's hand, “Why do you think she'd stop letting me come over?”

“I don't know. Moms are crazy. She always thinks we're doing 'naughty things good boys shouldn't be doing' when we're alone in our rooms. I mean, she _did_ catch Theseus with a girl once, but that was Theseus, not me!” He huffed and shook his head, “She has a strict rule about having boyfriends over: Only when one or more parents are home.”

Credence peered into Newt's eyes, frowning a bit more, and he asked, “So we _are_ boyfriends?”

At this, Newt looked surprised. “What? Of course we are. I mean, unless you don't want--?”

“I do. I want this.” Credence answered his question before he could even ask it, squeezing Newt's hand again, “I-I want to be your boyfriend. Please?”

Newt smiled shyly, then he took a step closer and lifted himself onto his toes, pressing a chaste kiss against Credence's lips, one that the older boy returned gratefully. George, still tucked in Newt's arm, growled when he was suddenly caught between Newt and Credence's chest, and he began to squirm.

“Oh, ah,” Newt gasped, pulling away from Credence quickly, “Let me—Let me put him away and--” He hurried over to George's sand room, setting the fox down and shutting the door right after. Credence smiled and walked up behind Newt, catching him by the waist before he could turn around, and he pressed his nose into the crook of Newt's neck, leaving a small, adoring kiss on his skin. Newt trembled in his arms and let out a light breath, and then he was pulling away again, completely red-faced and nervous.

“I-I—er—my parents—they're just—uh--” Newt stammered quickly, making vague pointing gestures upstairs. Credence bit his lip to keep from smiling and nodded.

“You're right. We should finish dinner.” He agreed with him, and Newt took a relieved breath before nodding with a grin. Together, they walked up the steps, Newt taking the lead and Credence comfortably following. Newt reached the door and grasped the handle, but he paused and grew tense, his shoulders squaring up.

“Newt?” Credence asked, reaching out to take his hand again.

“Sorry, I--” Newt began to apologize, only to suck in his words with a gasp and spin around on his heel. He put one foot on the same step Credence stood on, placed his hands on Credence's neck, and pulled him in for one more kiss, making sure he got a good, long taste before pulling away.

“Sorry,” He apologized again, blushing still, “I just...” He clenched his jaw, then shrugged and turned back towards the door, pushing it open before Credence could say a word. They stepped into the silent living room, both Newt and Credence actively avoiding everyone's curious gazes, and when they were both back in their seats, dinner picked back up.

Nearly two minutes passed in silence, everyone just eating while Credence sipped at his water. Two whole minutes until Theseus cleared his throat and asked, “Feeling better Newt? Refreshed, maybe?”

Newt blinked down at his plate, then raised his gaze to his brother before replying, “I don't think I like what you're implying.”

“Not implying anything!” Theseus claimed, raising his brows, “I'm just saying, it's interesting that _Credence_ went down to check on you.” He turned his eyes on the aforementioned teen, who tried not to show an ounce of guilt on his face.

“Just because he's kind enough to apologize for someone else's idiocy doesn't mean anything, Thees.” Newt remarked, taking one last bite before he picked his plate up along with Credence's and took them to the kitchen. A moment later, he came back out and added, “But now that you say it, I _am_ feeling better. Thanks for worrying.”

It was sarcastic and biting, but Newt merely left it at that before he went back into the kitchen and proceeded to wash the dishes. Credence shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not liking the way Theseus was glancing at him, and when Chastity set her fork and napkin down, Credence took the out and picked up her plate. He fled to the kitchen, standing right beside Newt and handing off the next plate.

“Thanks,” Newt sighed, looking tired. He took Chastity's plate and began to wash it, but he didn't say anything else. Credence took his silence as a plea for help. He stepped around Newt to grab a dry hand towel, picked up one of the clean dishes, and began to dry it. Newt cast him a mildly surprised look, and remarked lightly, “You don't have to do that, you know.”

Credence only shrugged, and when the plate was dry, he began to hunt around the kitchen so he could put it away. When he came back, Newt smiled at him and continued to wash. Credence continued to dry.

With dinner done and the dishes cleaned, Credence decided it would be best if they returned home. “If we leave now, we'll make it before it gets too dark,” He explained to his sisters and Mrs. Scamander, who seemed just as disappointed as Modesty did.

“Oh, can't you three just spend the night? We have plenty of room, you know! The girls can take the guest bedroom and you can bunk with Theseus!” She insisted, only for Theseus to grimace and cross his arms.

“No way, I'm not sharing a bed with another guy—sorry Credence, you're just not my type.” He mentioned, and Credence found he couldn't really be offended. He wouldn't want to spend the night in Theseus' bed anyways.

“Then with Newt?” Mrs. Scamander suggested next, raising her brows at her youngest son, who looked like a deer-in-headlights. “Or take the couch, for goodness sake! Just spend the night, please?”

“Mom, come on,” Theseus complained, “Look at them, they don't want to spend the night! Besides, they don't have any clothes to wear tomorrow.”

“Our mom doesn't buy us a lot,” Modesty mentioned lightly, and Chastity shrugged her shoulders.

“We wouldn't mind...” Chastity hummed, looking towards Credence with what she thought was a subtly pleading look. Credence pressed his lips into a line and glanced at Newt, then at Theseus, then finally at Ethel.

“I wouldn't want to impose...” He mumbled, but Mrs. Scamander was already waving off his futile attempt at being polite with a shake of her head.

“Don't you worry for a second about that! Newton, go pick up your room. Credence will share your bed with you.” She instructed, and Newt shot off upstairs, not needing to be told twice.

“Mom,” Theseus hissed out, approaching the woman with shoulders hunched, “Do you seriously think that's a good idea?”

“Well, _you_ didn't want to bunk with him,” Ethel sniped, but Theseus wasn't about to back down.

“But Newt's... you know... That's like letting Chastity share a bed with me!” Theseus argued. Ethel's brows lifted in genuine shock. She spared her son a response, but she didn't spare him the seething glare she sent him.

“Come on, ladies, I'll show you to the guest bedroom,” She said instead, walking past Theseus with her nose turned up at him and settling her hands on the Barebone girls' shoulders, leading them upstairs, “I'll find a shirt in my husband's dresser for you two to wear to bed, okay?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Modesty agreed politely.

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Scamander,” Chastity chimed in as well. Credence smiled privately to himself, proud of his sisters.

“Credence,” Theseus called out to his friend, getting the boy's attention, “Maybe you should sleep in my room, instead. I can take the floor...”

Credence offered him a small smile, already understanding what Theseus was so afraid of, but he refused anyways, replying, “That's okay Theseus. You're not my type either.”

Looking shocked, Theseus attempted to sputter out a response, but Newt was already running down the stairs and grabbing Credence's hand, rattling off excitedly, “Come on, my rooms clean! I have some clothes you can borrow, too!” He pulled at Credence until he had no choice but to follow, and together they ascended the staircase, leaving dumb-struck Theseus on the first floor.

They slipped into Newt's bedroom together, Credence grinning as he pushed the door shut behind him, and before either of them really cared to realize, Newt had Credence against his door and was kissing him intimately, pulling at Credence's shirt, untucking it from his jeans so that he could slip his hands underneath.

But when Newt's hands met Credence's skin, the taller boy jumped and broke off from the kiss, hissing out, “C- _cold_!”

“Oh! Sorry.” Newt immediately apologized, giving him a nervous smile, “Um... Should we lay down, then?”

“Yeah, okay.” Credence agreed quietly. Newt's smile grew more confident as he took both of Credence's hands—just as cold as his own, he noted—and he lead him towards his full-sized bed, just big enough for the both of them, but just small enough that they'd definitely be pressed up against each other. Newt let go of Credence's hands so he could slip his t-shirt off, and he was just about to take off his pants when Credence began to stutter out a hesitant, “W-wait--!”

“What's the matter?” Newt asked, jeans already open and halfway down his hips, flashing his pink polka-dot boxers.

“I-I mean...” Credence muttered, trying to look anywhere but at Newt's bare chest _or_ the polka-dots, for every time he did he felt his temperature rise by ten degrees, “I don't... know...”

Newt blinked at him, then continued to shuck off his pants, though he moved more like he was just undressing rather than _stripping_ , and he asked, “You don't know?”

Credence shook his head, staring wide-eyed at Newt's bed, his eyes following the decorative brown vines and leaves embroidered in the green cloth. Newt hummed and stepped out of Credence's peripherals, and it took all of Credence's willpower not to turn and watch him walk away. It took none of Credence's willpower, however, to watch Newt's reflection in the TV settled in the corner of his room.

He could see Newt bending over to dig in his bottom dresser drawer, and he struggled to swallow down the groan building in his chest. He could feel a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck, and he clenched his jaw tightly. He didn't know what they were doing. He didn't even know _how_ to do.... that. But that was what Newt wanted, right? That was the whole point of Credence sharing his room, right?

Newt came back and Credence sucked in a sharp breath, completely expecting to see Newt still in his boxers or, God forbid, _nude_ , but instead he was wearing a plain grey tank top and a pair of baggy plaid cloth pants, looking ready for sleep. In his hands he had a similar outfit, thought the t-shirt he was giving Credence was substantially larger.

“Go ahead and change,” Newt instructed Credence with a smile, passing Credence the clothes, “I'll put on a movie, sound okay?”

“Oh.” Credence took the clothes, looking down at them with a twinge of confusion, but then nodded and retreated towards the back of the room. He changed quietly, his back turned to Newt so he couldn't see what the boy was doing. From all the noise and the static, he assumed Newt was setting up the movie like he said he would.

Credence pulled on the sleeping pants and the baggy black t-shirt bearing a full moon and a howling wolf standing upon a cliff. He turned back towards Newt, jumping when Newt quickly turned towards the TV as if he hadn't been staring. Biting back a smile, Credence stepped closer to him, already seeing the tips of his ears flushing red.

Deciding to tease, Credence leaning in close against Newt's back, feeling him tense up the closer he came, and he whispered into his ear, “What movie are we watching?”

“U-uh—ha, um, well--” Newt began to stutter, his voice rising in pitch with each passing second, “I th—thought maybe—erm—you know, like... Maybe just a D-D-Documentary o-or—ahem--if you're not inter-interested--”

Credence smiled even more, practically feeling the heat radiating from Newt's red face, and he whispered, “I'd love that.”

Newt trembled and let out a pitiful whimper, and then he was standing up so fast that Credence had to throw himself backwards in order to keep from being hit. “The Blue Planet! Let's lay down!” and he all but dove for his bed, crawling under the sheets so fast Credence thought he resembled a burrowing animal.

Credence slowly joined him in bed, settling down beside him and tucking himself under the sheets. Newt smiled up at him and scooted closer until they were both laying in the center, and he curled up against Credence's side and rested his cheek on his shoulder. Smiling, Credence wrapped his arm around Newt's waist underneath the sheets, stroking his thumb against the small of his back, playing over the bumps of his spine. As the documentary started, Credence felt Newt settle his hand on Credence's stomach, stroking the cloth of his shirt.

He smiled a little and focused on the show, enjoying the little shocks of pleasure at the simple touch in the background. He returned the small gesture by moving his hand over the entirety of Newt's back, his fingers traveling over spine, shoulder blades, and ribs, pressing down in one particular spot that made Newt twitch and giggle.

“Don't,” He snorted, grabbing Credence's hand and moving it back to his hip.

“Sorry,” Credence replied half-heartedly, allowing the both of them to get sucked back into the show before he began to creep his hand back up to that spot beneath his ribs.

“Credence,” Newt bit out when he was halfway there, and Credence dropped his hand back to Newt's hip. He could feel Newt silently chuckling along where their bodies met, and then he felt the wet press of Newt's lips against his neck before he quietly purred out, “Good.”

He felt that hand at his stomach again, and he became almost hyper-aware of it when he felt it moving down. Credence held his breath and went stiff, though he tried not to make it obvious. He felt Newt's fingers curl around the hem of his shirt and lift, bringing the cloth with it until his abdomen was uncovered. Trembling now, Credence tried to focus on the show instead, hoping he could play it cool and act like this wasn't making him extremely antsy. He felt Newt's hand—now warm from being under the blankets—settle on his stomach again, bare skin on skin, just over his navel.

And then it stayed there. Credence was able to breathe again.

“Credence?” Newt asked in a quiet voice, and Credence responded with a soft hum, “Do you want to... I mean... Do you want _me_ to... um...”

Credence sucked in a sharp breath from between his teeth. Here was the question he was dreading, and he didn't even know what the answer should be. It was what Newt wanted, wasn't it? And Credence already loved kissing Newt, so he _must_ enjoy doing this, too, right? But he was just so unsure, and he didn't want to mess up, and his _sisters_ were right next door, and Newt's parents and Theseus--

“Y-yes...?” Credence answered, his tone rising as if _he_ were asking the question. Feeling Newt shifting against his side, Credence looked down at his boyfriend, and they met eyes in the glow from the television screen.

Moments passed with Newt intently surveying Credence's gaze, gauging his answer, trying to discern if he was lying or not. Credence tried to keep his expression neutral, tried to repress any tells he might have. He wasn't sure how well he was doing.

With a smile and a sigh, Newt relaxed back against Credence's shoulder and mumbled, “Good, I didn't really want to, either.”

Credence let out a relieved gasp that made Newt laugh, and he gave the boy a thankful kiss on the top of his head before whispering, “Thank goodness...”

“Do you think you'd want to?” Newt asked next, though he kept his head on Credence's shoulder, “One day, I mean?”

“Maybe,” Credence answered honestly this time, “I don't really know much about it.”

“Me neither, except the obvious,” Newt replied casually, and Credence felt himself flush.

“I don't even know the obvious.” He admitted, and that garnered a surprised hum from Newt.

“Really? I thought you would have taken sex ed?” Newt asked, tapping his fingers against Credence's stomach as if he were a piano.

“Would have. Ma didn't want me to.” Credence explained with a shrug, “None of us were allowed to take it. She said it was against our religion.”

“That's crazy,” Newt grunted, huddling closer to Credence with a yawn, “I can teach you if you want?”

“Oh.” Credence felt himself grow warm again, and Newt began to laugh.

“Completely theoretically.” He amended, peering up at Credence through his lashes, “The only examples you're getting are straight from the text.”

“Oh,” Credence breathed again, a small smile pulling at his lips, “I'd like that.”

Newt hummed pleasantly and he kissed Credence's neck again, his hand moving higher on Credence's stomach until his fingers were tracing along his ribs. Credence trembled at the feather-light touch, not exactly ticklish, but still enough to rouse a reaction.

The television was still playing, a pleasant, soothing voice mumbling about the arctic and penguins in the background, and Newt slowly moved one leg over Credence's, using that to pull himself even closer, until he was practically on top of him.

“Can I kiss you more?” Newt asked, giving him what could only be called puppy eyes. Credence's breath shook in his chest and he pulled newt completely over him, sighing comfortably. He ran his hands up and down Newt's sides, pushing up his tank top so that he could feel Newt's skin, raising his brows at how smooth he felt.

“Your arms a bumpy,” Credence mentioned, stroking Newt's forearm in comparison, and then returning it to Newt's side, “The rest of you is smooth.”

“Yeah?” Newt smiled, and he reached down to hike up his pant leg, “What about here?”

Credence let Newt lead his hand to his calf, and immediately he laughed. Stroking the skin there, he remarked, “ _Hairy_.”

“It only gets thicker the higher it goes,” Newt mentioned, and when Credence gave him a curious gaze, Newt playfully smacked him on the chest and muttered, “ _Not_ what I meant.”

“Mine, too.” Credence decided to say, only adding as an afterthought, “My legs.”

“And your chest, huh?” Newt said, moving his hand higher to play with the light spattering of wiry hair.

“Mmm.” Credence hummed, moving his own hand higher to feel Newt's chest, smiling when he felt hair there as well. “Not as much as you.”

“Yeah, well, you should see Theseus' chest.” Newt grinned, his eyebrows lifting, “It's like someone cut up a shaggy rug and stapled it there.”

“Stop,” Credence snorted, pulling Newt down until he was lying flat on his chest, their noses close enough to brush. Newt was smiling all the same, and he gave Credence a few innocent kisses as an apology.

“I'm tired,” Newt whispered, but he paused between his words to deliver another sweet kiss.

“Then go to sleep,” Credence suggested softly, bringing his hands back to Newt's spine, rubbing along his spine, “We're already in bed.”

Newt whined in response, giving Credence an even deeper kiss and sighing when Credence slowly returned it. Hot, wet, intimate, with Newt's hands cradling his cheeks and Credence's tangling Newt's hair. When they pulled away for a breath, Credence whispered, “I thought you were—hmm..” Another kiss, distracting, and Credence gasped when Newt nipped at his bottom lip, and said breathlessly, “Thought you were tired.”

“I am.” Newt assured him, though he sounded as chipper as if it were morning, “So tired.” He scooted down Credence's lap, kissing his cheek, his chin, his neck, and then he paused to suck along his collarbone.

“Newt,” Credence whispered, tilting his head back just the slightest bit.

“Mmhmm?” Newt hummed right against his shoulder, making Credence twitch in response.

His mind was cloudy, his body growing warm, and he struggled to say anything that might have been cute or clever or attractive, but all that he ended up blurting out was, “Aren't slow lorises illegal in the United States?”

Newt shot upright with a fire in his eyes, and though his lips were red and spit-slicked, his hair tangled, and his chest and cheeks glowing with heat, he said in pure determination, “Okay, it's illegal to smuggle them, no one ever said anything about owning them! Besides, _mister_ , she was in _terrible_ condition. I couldn't just let her wither away and die!”

“Wha—where did you get her from, anyways?” Credence asked, propping himself up onto his elbows. Newt, meanwhile, looked away slyly.

“Let's just say... The local zoo isn't going to be happy about a missing animal or two.

Snorting, Credence grabbed Newt around his waist and tossed them around, throwing the blankets halfway off the bed and pinning the smaller boy against the mattress. Newt shouted at first before he began to laugh, hanging his arms around Credence's neck and pulling him down for another kiss, but Credence pulled away before Newt could get into it.

“Maybe I should go find Obscurus and tell him I have a criminal here,” Credence whispered, settling himself slowly on top of Newt, minding his slight body and making sure he wasn't crushing him at all. Newt cackled still, tossing his head from side to side.

“He'll have to hold you down,” Credence whispered, putting a hand against Newt's chest to pin him down, “He'll keep you right here,” He pushed a little harder, and Newt gasped, blushing bright red anew, “And he'll _punish_ you.”

“Credence--” Newt gasped, and then promptly shrieked and squirmed as Credence assaulted his rib cage. He grasped Credence's wrists and tried to tug them away, then started pushing at Credence's shoulders all the while wriggling in his grip.

“Stop! St-stop!” He laughed, kicking now, but Credence held him down and continued to tickle him. When Newt shrieked a second time, Credence began to laugh himself, and thought about relenting for a moment.

The choice was made for him when the bedroom door was thrown open, Theseus running into the room with a trophy in his hand, completely ready to use it to bludgeon. Credence sat upright, caught red-handed, and Newt scrambled up as well with a gasp.

“Thees--” Newt wheezed, getting up just as quickly as Credence scrambled off of him. Theseus only gaped at them, obviously discovering a scene that he didn't think he'd find. Both Credence and Newt were struggling to smooth out their shoots, and while Credence attempted to smooth his hair down, Newt got up from the bed and said in a rush, “It—It's not what you think--”

“What were you doing on my brother?” Theseus hissed out, enraged. He tried to step towards Credence, still sitting on the bed, but Newt stepped in his way with his hands on Theseus' shoulders, keeping him in place. “I _knew_ you were eyeing him all through dinner!”

“Seriously, it wasn't anything!” Newt tried to argue while keeping his voice quiet, not wanting to wake his parents, “Theseus, calm down!”

“Don't tell me to calm down!” Theseus spat, turning on Newt now, “What was he doing to you? What were you doing to him?” He looked back at Credence, who was staring down at the bed, ashamed.

“Good God--” Newt huffed, shoving Theseus back this time, “He was tickling me!”

“What?!” Theseus turned back to Newt, confusion bleeding into his anger.

“He was _tickling_ me!” Newt said again, giving Theseus one last shove, “He said he wasn't ticklish, I told him I was, and he started tickling me!”

“He was on top of you!” Theseus argued, and Newt scoffed at him.

“How else do you tickle someone?” Newt stated flatly, lowering his hands when Theseus didn't look like he was going to go after Credence again. Theseus was breathing hard, still trying to calm down, and he looked between Credence and Newt, confusion taking over.

“I heard—heard screaming,” Theseus mentioned, and Newt shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms.

“I was laughing,” Newt explained, his brows furrowing, “Really, Theseus... You're overreacting.”

“He was...” Theseus whispered, looking back at Credence one last time, then finally relenting with a sigh, “God—I thought he was--” Another sigh and he ran his fingers through his hair, and Newt chuckled and started pushing him towards the door.

“I promise you, Theseus, the _last_ thing that guy's going to do to me is force himself on me.” Newt reassured him, and once he was in the hallway, Newt said to him, “Go to sleep, Thees. We'll try not to make too much noise, okay?”

“Okay,” Theseus agreed, casting Credence an apologetic look, “See you two in the morning...”

“Good night,” Newt bid him, closing the door behind him soon after. He stayed there for a long moment, resting his forehead against the wooden door. Credence shifted on the bed, glancing up at Newt's back, wondering what might be going through his mind.

“I'm sorry,” He apologized, first and foremost, and that made Newt pull away from the door and return to the bed. He climbed atop the mattress, then atop Credence, and with a strong push, he shoved Credence back against the mattress.

“Shh...” Newt bid him, getting comfortable on Credence and tucking his head against his chest, closing his eyes, “Let's go to sleep.”

Credence nodded quietly, slowly putting one hand on Newt's back, and then the other when Newt hummed quietly, relaxed. He allowed himself to relax as well, closing his eyes and trying to focus on sleep. He could feel the moment Newt slipped into blissful unconsciousness, soon followed by a trickle of drool that dampened his shirt.

With a quiet chuckle and a whispered, “Gross,” though the word was dripping with adoration. He gently nudged Newt onto the bed beside him, rousing the boy long enough for Newt to grumble, sleepily wipe his chin, then roll onto his side and continued to sleep. Credence smiled even more and sidled up behind Newt, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck and closing his eyes.

 


	15. Chapter 14: The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all didn't forget 'bout me Q-Q

Breakfast was an experience in itself. Credence discovered that when Newt didn't have to sneak back into his house at a certain time, he was actually a late riser, and remained asleep long after Credence and his sisters were up. Theseus met them downstairs, hair sleep-mussed and eyes groggy. A warm, delicious smell was already wafting from the kitchen, and as soon as they stepped into the living room, they were greeted by the Scamander parents, mother cooking breakfast and father setting the table.

“Come on, come on, take a seat!” He insisted, pulling out chairs for the girls before scooting them back in and serving them orange juice. Credence took his seat in between them, smiling at the awed gasp Modesty gave and the way Chastity greedily sipped at her juice. As soon as her cup was nearly empty, Credence was already reaching for his glass, ready to give her him, but a hand on his wrist stopped him.

“We're _all_ eating this morning, Credence!” Mr. Scamander said with a touch of amusement, and he poured Chastity a second helping of orange juice, only to leave the entire jug in the center of the table. Surprised by the generosity, Credence peered down at his juice, then experimentally took a sip. It was sweet and acidic in the best way, refreshing all the way down his throat. Though the pulp was less than appetizing, Credence found the taste addicting, and he drank even more.

Then plates topped with bacon, eggs, and toast covered in butter and jam were being set on the table, followed by larger plates _full_ of food. Theseus hummed pleasantly and began to tuck in, all the while Modesty, Chastity, and Credence just gaped silently at the food before them. If Mary Lou had ever bought them this much food... Well, Credence didn't have to think about that for much longer.

“Eat,” He told his sisters, especially Chastity, “As much as you can, okay?”

“Okay,” Chastity whispered while Modesty followed his command and began to tuck in. Credence began to eat in earnest as well, and while he kept an eye on his sisters and their food intake, he fed them from the serving plates instead of his own.

When they were nearly halfway done, Newt finally made his way downstairs, wearing his robe again and rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He plopped into the chair beside Theseus and started serving himself breakfast. Theseus smirked at him and asked, “Sleep well?”

“Mm...” Newt hummed in response, shoveling eggs into his mouth at a lazy speed. Credence watched him just as closely as his own sisters, and as soon as he was out of eggs, he was serving him more. The next moment Newt was moving his fork to his plate, he noticed the eggs and looked almost surprised. A smile graced Newt's face and he continued to eat, pausing only to slurp down juice.

“Alright, you kids, we have to get you four to school!” Mrs. Scamander said enthusiastically, clearing the table of empty plates and glasses, “Girls, go upstairs and get dressed. I'll drive you to school, okay? Theseus, you can walk with Credence, right?”

“'Course,” Theseus grunted through a half-full mouth, pushing up from the table and nodding at Credence, “Get changed, we'll get going in ten minutes.”

“Sure,” Credence agreed quietly, watching his sisters skip upstairs first, followed by Theseus, and he made sure that Mr. Scamander didn't need help with the dishes before he went upstairs as well. When he was about halfway up, he heard footsteps behind him, and a glance over his shoulder showed Newt following him.

They slipped into Newt's bedroom, the door closing soon after, and Newt gave him a soft kiss on his cheek, “Sorry, didn't brush my teeth yet,” he mumbled, smiling up at him, “See you soon?”

“I'll leave my window unlocked,” Credence mentioned calmly, and Newt laughed under his breath before he stepped away.

“Get dressed. You'll be late for school.” Newt hummed, dropping back onto his bed and tucking the blankets around himself. Credence smirked and got dressed in his uniform, smoothing out his sleeves and pant legs before he left.

He met Theseus downstairs, who promptly informed him that his sisters were already en route to their own schools. Nodding, the two of them stepped outside and started on their way to school. It wasn't far from Theseus' house, but it was still a fifteen- or twenty-minute walk. This early in the morning, Credence found himself stuffing his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders in order to keep the wind from freezing him.

“So...” Theseus began, the word being dragged out as he tried to stay casual, “How was your night?”

“Fine,” Credence answered, honest enough, “Learned a lot.”

“Oh? About what?” Theseus hummed, looking at Credence almost judgmentally.

“Apparently there's a breed of penguin that make nests out of rocks.” Credence declared, and immediately, Theseus snorted.

“Oh, my God, he made you watch The Blue Planet with him, didn't he?” Theseus grinned, and Credence laughed quietly, nodding his head.

“It's actually interesting,” Credence mentioned lightly, seeing Theseus roll his eyes.

“Yeah, just about as interesting as Professor Graves' lectures.” He retorted, “So that's all you did? Watch The Blue Planet and... what... have a tickle fight?”

Credence flushed at that and shrugged his shoulders, saying in an apologetic tone, “Modesty is really ticklish, so when he mentioned it, I just...” He shrugged again, and Theseus let out a heavy sigh.

“Sorry about freaking out last night, I guess.” Theseus mentioned, stuffing his own hands into his pockets, “I was sort of... nervous. You know, about... well...”

“About Newt and I sharing a room?” Credence asked, lifting his brows. When Theseus began to nod, Credence made a face and asked, “Were you worried I was going to do something to him?”

“Wouldn't you be if it were your little sister?” Theseus asked, defensive. Credence merely glanced at him and shrugged.

“I didn't say I wouldn't be,” He pointed out, “But you know I wouldn't do something like that.”

“Yeah, just like how I knew that Leta Lestrange was a kind and understanding young girl,” Theseus replied, muttering it under his breath, and Credence immediately understood where he was getting at. The realization made him laugh. Theseus shot Credence a cold look, but Credence only laughed again.

“Theseus,” He said, ducking his head. Theseus only glared more.

“What? He's my little brother, okay? I'm not going to let someone else make his life worse, even if he is my friend!” Theseus argued, and Credence laughed more.

“Theseus,” Credence started again, looking at the man, “Who would I even have to tell? My sisters?”

“I-I don't know!” Theseus huffed, his cheeks turning a bright red to match his cold nose.

“Look,” Credence spoke up, grabbing Theseus by the arm and moving him off of the sidewalk and in-between two buildings. It smelled like urine and rot and a man covered in a black blanket sat hunched in the corner, coughing into his fist. Standing face-to-face, Credence let go of Theseus and said to him, “You're really nice, Theseus. I'm... happy I met you, and I'm happy that I got to meet your family and Newt, but...” He paused, gathered himself up, and tried to keep his face as neutral and honest as possible, “You're like a brother to me. And by extension, Newt's like a brother to me, too. I know you want to keep him safe, and I do too.”

Letting out a long sigh, Theseus dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, Credence... That actually makes me feel... a lot better.”

“Good,” Credence smiled, about to lead them out of the alleyway when another sharp cough from behind them caught their attention. As they turned, they saw the man in the blanket pushing himself to his feet.

“We should go,” Theseus said quietly, grabbing Credence's arm and trying to pull him away. The man coughed and wheezed, holding onto the wall as he tried to keep his balance. Credence's brows furrowed, and he ignored Theseus in order to approach the man.

“Sir?” Credence asked quietly, reaching an arm out as the man swayed and staggered forward.

“ _Credence!_ ” Theseus hissed, already at the mouth of the alleyway, “He's just some drunk, let's go!”

“Are you okay?” Credence asked instead, and then the man was colliding against Credence's chest, grabbing onto his arms and wheezing against his neck. Credence grunted and grasped him in return, making sure they both stayed upright, and he asked in a panic, “Do you need help?”

The man began to mumble, his words fast and under his breath, and Credence gripped him tighter and tried to listen. What he heard was a jumble of observations, detached, not making any sense, but unnerving all the same.

“--hair. Her hair. Curly. And soft.” The man grabbed Credence by the front of his shirt, this time, and Credence grabbed his wrist in return, “Strong grip,” The man chuckled, deranged, then smelled him, deep and audible, and with a sigh, he whispered, “Smells good. Smells smart. Yes, that's it.”

“Sir?” Credence blurted, trying to tug his shirt free, but the man didn't budge. Instead, he clung tighter to him, even grabbing him by the back of his head, ripping out a few strands of hair while he was at it. Credence grunted but otherwise did nothing.

“I made you,” The man claimed, shaking Credence firmly, “I _created_ you.”

“What--?” Credence whispered, but then the man was pushing him away, shoving him out of the alleyway, towards Theseus.

“Go!” He shouted this time, keeping the blanket wrapped firmly around his head and body, “Get out! Go away!”

Theseus grabbed Credence's arm and pulled him away from the man quickly, muttering, “What a nutter...”

“But...” Credence stuttered, staring back at the man as Theseus pulled him away. When they were far enough away, the man turned and disappeared back into the alleyway. Credence let out a sigh, feeling as if he just missed something important, and he turned and let Theseus walk him the rest of the way to school.

\-------------------

They met again in Percival's class, though it was nothing exciting. They sat where they usually did, sat through another one of Professor Graves' lectures. At the end of the class, Theseus bid Credence a good rest of his day and left. Credence made to follow soon after when Graves called out to him.

“A moment, Mr. Barebone.” Percival requested, and Credence let out a short sigh before he nodded. Approaching Graves' desk, Credence set his bag on the nearest desk and approached Graves, who was leaning against his own desk.

They stood there silently for a moment, Professor Graves trying to think of what to say, and Credence waiting patiently. When he seemed to finally muster up the courage, Percival looked at him right in the eyes, and said, “Porpentina told me to wait until all of the paperwork went through...” Credence furrowed his brows, and Graves crossed his arms slowly and continued, “But I've never been known to be a patient man. Has Mary Lou returned at all?”

Credence frowned and turned his head away, crossing his own arms, though it was more for comfort than anything. Quietly, Credence shook his head, but he mumbled soon after, “But we have food from when she was here. And Ms. Goldstein brought more last week. We're fine until the end of this week, when we...” He sighed, gritting his teeth, “When we move in with you.”

Percival nodded slowly, his eyes glued on Credence, and after another moment, he said, “You seem uncomfortable. Uncertain. Why?”

“I... I don't know.” Credence mumbled, but Percival was already shaking his head and stepping closer.

“Tell me,” Percival urged, standing close to Credence, close enough to touch him, but he kept his hands to himself, “You're... afraid. Afraid of leaving? Afraid for your sisters?” Credence didn't respond, shaking his head slowly, and next, Graves guessed, “You're afraid of me.”

Credence paused, then glanced up at Percival, a silent affirmation. Percival nodded again, his eyes growing soft, and he dropped his arms to his sides, letting out a long sigh. “Credence...” He began, his brows furrowing, “You have to understand that I'm doing all of this for you.”

“That's what scares me.” Credence explained, closing his eyes, “I don't... I don't understand you. I don't get what you want from me.” He sighed and shook his head, stepping away from Percival to get a little breathing room, “I... I've been in your class for less than a year, Professor. I don't know... don't know anything about you, and you say you're doing this for _me_?”

“Credence...” Percival tried to talk, but Credence shook his head and walked even further, towards the back of the room.

“And then... And then I find out you're The Director?” Credence threw out, turning back towards Percival, “Have you known all this time? Known that it was _me_?”

“No!” Percival shouted, making Credence jump, “I only found out when you came to me that night, I only knew when I saw your Miraculous!”

“And why do you know so much?” Credence argued, looking less angry and even more frightened, “About the Miraculous? About Obscurus and Animagus and Grindelwald? You were the one who told us about Grindelwald in the first place! You were the one who told us about the Imperius and what they did and how to stop them! You were... you were _there_ the first night I changed... talking to me...”

“Credence, just listen to me.” Percival insisted, grabbing him by the shoulders to calm him down, even going so far as to move him to one of the desk chairs and sitting him down. Credence merely stared up at him, eyes wide and worried, but when he was sitting and settled Percival took a knee before him, keeping his gaze and saying in a softer voice, “All of this will be explained to you as soon as you are safe in my care, but I can at least tell you this much: You and I have a lot more in common than you think. You have only been in my class for this year, but I have known you even before you started at this school. I _found_ you, Credence.”

“What—what?” Credence stuttered, briefly recalling the man in the alleyway, whispering in a sour breath, holding him much too tightly, _I created you_.

“Never mind that.” Percival quickly stated, and immediately changed the subject, “I have no ulterior motive, Credence. I just want you safe.” Credence looked up at him, and Percival added, “You _and_ your sisters safe.”

Credence's brows furrowed and with a short shake of his head, he muttered, “Ms. Goldstein didn't want you to tell me this?”

“No,” Percival sighed, glancing down for a moment, gathering his courage once again, and he continued, “She told me not to tell you that I am fully prepared to take you in early. All three of you.”

Looking up at Credence, Percival said, “You've seen my home. I have rooms set up. One for you, one for the girls. And if you all need your own rooms, I am prepared to clear out my office.”

“You want us to... to move in? Already?” Credence asked, genuinely surprised, and Percival gave him a slight smile.

“I told you. I'm not a patient man.” Percival remarked, and after a hesitant moment, he placed a hand on Credence's knee, and he asked him once again, “Let me take you and your sisters home. _Our_ home. _Their_ home. Please. I'm... I just want to have dinner with my.. with my family.”

Credence let out a slow breath, a moment of hope, of wanting, overlaid by a terrifying sense of paranoia. He was still scared, still paranoid, but Percival was here, trying to make it all alright. Trying to make him feel safe. It was more than anything he could hope for in a parent, all he had hoped for in Mary Lou...

Another breath and Credence slowly nodded. Percival smiled, a sparkle in his eyes, a brightness in his expression, and he stood soon after. “Let me drive you there, then. We can go right after.”

“Okay,” Credence agreed, getting up as well and collected his bag, following Percival out of his classroom and towards the staff parking lot.

 


	16. Chapter 15: Family Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mild homophobia, use of derogatory words (f).
> 
> Plot, here we come!

Percival's car was the definition of luxury. Credence sat in the front passenger's seat, admiring the leather interior, tinted windows, and the polished wood trim. He rarely rode in cars in the first place, but he knew this was an expensive ride. He almost felt ashamed for sitting in it.

Percival got into the driver's seat and started the engine, the machine coming to life with a roar before settling into a consistent purr. Credence nervously pulled his seat belt on just before Percival pulled out of his parking spot and onto the street.

“Will your sisters be home?” Percival asked, and Credence mutely nodded, clutching to his backpack that sat in his lap. “Good. We'll go by your home, then.”

“I-It's on--” Credence began to direct, but Percival smiled and cut in.

“Not to worry, Credence. I know the way.” He assured the boy, and Credence only looked at him in surprise. Deciding not to say another word, Credence only nodded again and turned to look out the window, watching the city pass by in a flash. There were no words between them for the ride, just the quiet mumbling of the car radio as it played the news, which was as calm and devoid of Grindelwald as it had been for the past two weeks.

As soon as they pulled up to Credence's home, the boy was already grabbing his bag and unbuckling his seat belt. He nearly jumped out of the car as Percival put it in park, and he hurried up to the front door, unlocking it deftly before slipping inside.

“Chastity! Modesty!” He called out, bringing his backpack upstairs and tossing it onto his bed before he came back downstairs, spotting his sisters coming out of their rooms, Chastity still wearing her own school uniform.

“What's the matter, Credence?” Modesty asked curiously, looking up at her brother as Credence approached them, grasping her shoulder and Chastity's arm.

“My Professor is just outside.” Credence explained calmly, although he wasn't entirely sure how they were going to take this, “He's, um... He's the man who will be fostering you two... He wants to treat us to dinner.”

Modesty perked up at the mention of food, and while she looked excited, Chastity looked hesitant. Cautiously, Chastity mentioned, “Ms. Goldstein told us we would be going with him _next_ week.”

“I know. He knows, too. I think he just... wanted to meet you.” Credence guessed, giving Chastity a reassuring squeeze, “It's just dinner. We won't stay much longer.”

“Credence,” Chastity mumbled, still doubtful, so Credence pulled her and Modesty into an awkward hug.

“It'll be okay.” He promised, closing his eyes as he held them, “We'll go to dinner and come right back. No excuses.”

With a sigh, Chastity returned his hug, a silent act of agreement. When they pulled away, Credence nodded towards the door and said, “Put your shoes on and we'll go.”

“What are we going to have to dinner?” Modesty asked as she hurried to the front door, pulling on her shoes and tying them into sloppy bows. “Is he taking us somewhere?”

“I don't know, I-I think he wanted to cook for us,” Credence answered, looking towards Chastity who was pulling on her dress code appropriate boots, buttoning them along the side.

“Well, I hope he's a good cook,” Chastity muttered, though she cowered when Credence sent her a withering look.

“Please be polite,” He reminded her, and then Modesty, “He's my Professor. And he's going to be your foster parent, for a short while, at least.”

“He's going to be yours too, isn't he?” Modesty asked innocently, taking Credence's hand and giving it a squeeze. The Barebone boy looked down at his youngest sister with a strained smile.

“We'll... We'll discuss it another time, Modesty.” He told her, patting her hand and then turning towards Chastity, who was frowning at him, “Ready?”

Chastity sighed, then straightened up her back and nodded. Modesty squeezed Credence's hand again, looking between them nervously. Credence grasped the door knob and began to open the front door, saying once again because he felt like it was necessary, “Be _polite_.”

They stepped out of their home, Credence letting go of Modesty long enough to close and lock the door, and Percival was already there to greet them, standing outside of his car with just as much worry in his eyes as Credence felt. As soon as he saw the girls, however, he concealed it with a broad smile.

“Hello, young lady,” He greeted Chastity, his hand hanging in the air awkwardly as he struggled to decide between shaking her hand, touching her shoulder, or pulling her into a hug. In the end, he just clutched his hand into a fist and cleared his throat, “You must be Chastity. I'm Percival Graves, but please call me Percival.”

Chastity eyed the man quietly, evaluating him, and then mumbled, “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Percival cleared his throat again, dejected, but he recovered with a quiet, “Right. You as well,” and he opened the car door, allowing Chastity to slip inside. After, he turned towards Credence and Modesty, who was hiding behind her big brother's legs, peering at Graves shyly.

“She's shy,” Credence explained, glancing down at Modesty and smiling when she hid her face against his back. Percival smiled and lowered himself to his knee, just as he had done for Credence.

“Hello Modesty,” He greeted, making the girl peer around her brother again, eyes wide, “It's very nice to meet you.”

Modesty clutched at Credence's shirt, glancing up at her brother for a moment, before whispering, “Hello...”

Percival tilted his head, nodding towards the car, and he asked her, “Would you like to sit beside your sister, little lady?” She nodded quickly, letting go of Credence long enough to scurry to the car, climbing inside and curling up against Chastity. The older girl wrapped her arms protectively around Modesty, glancing nervously towards Credence.

Percival chuckled as he stood up, then proceeded to close their door before opening Credence's, “Come along, now, Credence.”

“Yeah,” Credence got back into the car, glancing up at Percival as he shut the door. As Percival walked around the car, Credence glanced back at his sisters, making sure they were both alright so far. Chastity helped Modesty put on her seat belt before doing the same for herself, and she met Credence's eye, offering him a slight, reassuring nod. They were okay. Credence nodded back and relaxed into his seat, glancing towards Percival when he opened the door and got in himself.

He started up the car and pulled out of the driveway, bringing them to his home. The way there was just as silent as before, no one daring to speak a word, not even Modesty. The news continued to mumble on, talking about a sports game with moderate interest. Credence was staring out of his window again.

It wasn't until they were pulling into Graves' driveway did the man speak up, asking the Barebones, “Nobody is allergic to anything, are they?”

No one answered. Credence looked back at his sisters, then frowned and looked back to Percival, “Chastity shouldn't have milk and Modesty doesn't like fish.”

In the back, Modesty immediately made a disgusted face, emphasized by the loud, “ _Blegh_!” and while Credence shot her an incredulous look, Percival only began to laugh.

“Alright. No milk, no fish.” He promised, unbuckling himself and getting out of the car. The moment he closed his door, Credence turned to his sisters once more,

“ _Polite!_ ” He reminded them desperately, and Modesty apologized under her breath. Credence could see her defiant little smile, however, and Credence just sighed and shook his head, opening the car door and slipping out himself. He opened the door for his sisters, helping Modesty out with a hand and looking desperately to Chastity, who only smiled back at him, playing innocent.

Credence walked his sisters to the front door, glancing up at Percival as he held the door open. Modesty gasped at the sight of Percival's house, eyes wide and curious, while Chastity held back her own surprise to maintain an indifferent composure. Percival, meanwhile, kindly told them, “Make yourselves at home. Explore if you like. I have a television in the living room; the remotes are right beside it. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

“Do you need any help?” Credence asked, at least remembering _his_ manners, but Percival smiled his way and shook his head.

“Go enjoy time with your sisters.” He told him, patting Credence on the shoulder before he stepped into the kitchen.

With a sigh, Credence followed after his sisters, finding Chastity sitting on the couch and turning on the TV while Modesty was examining the rooms, already finding what would be her and Chastity's bedroom and squealing in delight.

“Credence!” Modesty shouted, running out of the room with a toy wand in her hands, which she promptly pointed at her brother and shouted, “Abracadabra!”

“Modesty,” Credence sighed, glancing nervously towards the kitchen, “Please...”

“She's just playing, Credence,” Chastity reminded him, but she was patting the space next to her, beckoning Modesty over. The girl pouted and huffed, then stomped her way across the room to her sister, getting onto the couch with a defiant grunt. Credence, feeling like the villain here, sighed again and walked up to the back of the couch, kissing the top of Modesty's head.

“I'm sorry. I'm just nervous.” He told them, and Modesty looked up at him with a frown. Chastity only pulled Modesty closer to herself, obviously not accepting his apology. Credence frowned and stepped away from them, knowing he was too overbearing.

He left them in the living room, venturing into the halls. Looking to his left, he peered into Chastity and Modesty's bedroom, smiling a little at the soft pastels, the neatly made beds, topped with what looked like gifts. Toys and stuffed animals for Modesty, surely where she collected the wand. Clothes, modest jewelry, and a small wrapped box only slightly bigger than Credence's hand. He was curious, but he didn't step inside. He merely let their gifts be, and he looked towards the right, instead.

What would be his bedroom. Dark colors, a larger bed, also neatly made and topped with gifts. Credence stepped inside slowly, careful not to make noise on the wood floor. He approached the bed cautiously, surveying the things Percival bought him. There were clothes as well, decent ones, not the overlarge or painfully tight hand-me-downs Mary Lou purchased for him from Goodwill while she bought herself brand new dresses and shoes. Atop the clothes was a hat, a wide-brim fedora, pure black. Credence picked it up and looked at it, interested in the texture of the material, the silk band wrapped around it. It looked a little dated, but Credence liked it anyways.

Glancing around the room, Credence found a mirror. He approached in slowly, looking over the fedora once again, and then he placed it atop his head, looking at himself, surveying how he looked. He turned his head from one side to the other, took off the hat and tried to flatten his hair with his palm, then placed it again. He tilted it down, tilted it up, then kept it straight, and he smiled a little when he found an angle he sort of liked.

Having enough with his reflection, he removed the hat completely and turned back to his bed, setting it back down and looking at the other items there. Another box, similarly wrapped to Chastity's and just about the same size. He picked it up and turned it about, then held it up to his ear and shook it. Something thumped around inside, but he couldn't discern what it might be, so he set the box back down.

There were polished leather shoes on the floor, in his size, too. There was a brand new backpack, and he picked it up, frowning when he felt something shift inside. Opening it up, he found a copy of _Hamlet_ inside, and he repressed the urge to roll his eyes. And then he realized that no one was around him, so he rolled his eyes anyways.

He peered around the room, finding a chair and a desk. He sat on the chair and popped open the book, then gasped when an envelope fell out of it and onto the ground. Frowning, Credence set the book aside and leaned down to pick it up, looking it over in his hands. His name was written on the front with a delicate hand, so he turned it around and popped it open.

He was just about to pull the paper out when a shriek from the living room startled him. He threw the envelope onto the desk, not even pausing when it fell behind it and back onto the ground, and he ran outside.

“Chastity--!” He called out, only to stop midway when he saw Percival had already reacted. Modesty and Chastity were cowering in the corner of the room while Percival held a cup upside down in his hand, a piece of paper covering it, properly containing the fat brown spider within. It tried to crawl onto the edge of the glass, its feet sliding along it in vain, and Credence let out a breath.

“Credence!” Modesty whimpered, running to her brother and hugging him around his waist, “It fell right on me! And then Chastity slapped it onto the ground, and Mr. Graves caught it!”

Credence let out a breath, looking up at Percival who was depositing the spider outside, and he wrapped his arms around Modesty and held her tightly. “It didn't bite you, did it?” Modesty shook her head firmly, so Credence smiled, and rubbed her back, whispering, “Good. You're so brave. You and Chastity.”

Chastity huffed, obviously still tense, but she tried to write it off by muttering, “It was just a spider.”

Percival began to chuckle as he closed the door, and he gave a brief shrug before mentioning, “Well, that spider is gone now. No need to worry, my girls.” He glanced briefly at Credence, then asked, “Have you found your room?”

“Er... Yes. I have.” Credence managed to say, looking away when he felt Chastity look at him, “Thank you. For the clothes, I mean. It was very thoughtful.”

Chuckling again, Percival asked, “I take it you haven't opened the box, have you? Or the backpack?”

Credence rolled his eyes again, only to remember that this time he was around people, and he felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I-I opened the backpack. Thank you for... for _Hamlet_.”

Percival smiled quietly, but Credence could see a touch of worry in his eyes, or maybe... disappointment. “Go open the box,” He told Credence, walking back to the kitchen and setting the cup in the sink, “It's already been activated. As is yours, Chastity.”

“Activated?” Credence wondered aloud, while Chastity looked up at her brother with similar confusion.

“What box?” She asked. Modesty was the one to answer.

“Oh! On the beds, there were a lot of gifts for us! I saw it on your bed, come on!” Modesty said excitedly, grabbing Chastity's hand and pulling her down the hall. Credence followed after them, but he stepped back into his room instead, walking up to the bed and picking up the box. He looked at it, admiring the shiny wrap, and he began to pluck at the bow.

Across the hall, Chastity gasped and shouted, “No way!” Credence bit his lip and opened his own box a little faster. He ripped the wrapping off with only a twinge of guilt, then removed it all from the plain white box. Frowning, Credence turned it over and pulled off the top, gasping when the gift inside was revealed.

A brand new smartphone, without a single fingerprint on the glass. Removing it from its case, Credence marveled at the device, gently stroking the sleek black backing. With a press of a button, the phone buzzed to life and loaded up, already fully charged and updated. Credence smiled in disbelief, sliding the screen back and forth with his finger just because he could, but he yelped when it began to buzz anew in his hand.

On the screen displayed a name: Chastity. Apparently, she was currently calling him.

Answering it with a swipe, Credence held the phone close to his ear—he didn't want to smudge it, not when it was so _new—_ and whispered, “Hello?”

“Credence!” Chastity cried out, and he could hear her through the device and across the hall, “We got new phones!”

“I-I know!” Credence smiled, looking across the hall at Chastity, who waved at him as if they were miles apart, “Now Modesty doesn't have to steal your phone anymore.”

Standing beside Chastity, Modesty had a look of sudden realization of the fact, then secretly whispered, “Yes!” Chastity, meanwhile, looked just as happy. She cupped her hand over his mouth and the receiver of the phone, whispering right into Credence's ear:

“I can't believe he bought us phones! Credence, this is... just... amazing!”

Credence smiled gently and quietly nodded his head, glancing briefly at his phone— _his_ \-- before he hung up and crossed the hall. Gathering Chastity into his arms, Credence hugged her tightly and whispered, “I'm glad you're happy.”

“Can't we just move in already?” Modesty pouted, looking up at her older siblings, “This bed looks so much nicer than the one at home!”

“Modesty--!” Credence whispered, appalled by her tenacity, but a voice from the doorway cut him off.

“I would be delighted, actually,” Percival mentioned, smiling at the three of them, “We could collect your things after dinner if you'd like.”

“Yes!” Modesty cheered, only to look at Credence pleadingly and beg, “Please, Credence? Please, please, please!”

Credence sighed and frowned at the youngest, and was about to tell her no when Modesty even grabbed his hand and asked, “Can we, Credence?” He withered, feeling trapped. He couldn't say no to both of them, not when they agreed on something for once!

Credence looked between his sisters, hoped one of them would change their mind, but eventually, inevitably, he gave in and muttered, “Okay. We'll get our things after dinner.”

Modesty cheered loudly, and Chastity laughed behind her hand. Credence tried to look angry at the both of them, but he couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. When he glanced over his shoulder at Percival, he found the man smiling, all the same, a spark of hope, of excitement, and Credence knew that this man would be a great father to his sisters.

“Well,” Percival announced, clapping his hands together, “Dinner is in the oven. We have about thirty minutes until it's done. Why don't we sit in the living room and... get to know each other?”

Credence huffed and nodded, guiding his sisters out with a hand on their shoulders. Percival took the lead, walking into the living room and sitting in the armchair in the corner. Modesty and Chastity took the couch, and Credence sat by their feet, even though there was more than enough room. He didn't want to squish them, after all.

“Chastity,” Percival began, looking at her, “Can I ask, why aren't you at Ilvermorny?”

“Mom said it was too expensive,” Chastity explained with a shrug, “The only reason why Credence is going is because he managed to get a scholarship somehow.”

“Ms. Goldstein told me to write a paper for a competition. I guess they chose mine out of the hundreds.” Credence added.

“And now I'm too old to start at Ilvermorny,” Chastity piped up, frowning, “I'm already a Junior, and the year is halfway over. There's no point in transferring for one year.”

“That's unfortunate,” Percival mumbled, looking truly apologetic, “No matter, how are your grades? Better than Credence's, I hope?”

Credence frowned at the jab, but when Chastity answered with a proud, “Straight A's, sir,” he couldn't help but smile up at her.

“She's very dedicated to her schoolwork,” Credence mentioned, looking back to Percival, “She's been applying for scholarships ever since she started high school. She's managed to get five thousand dollars so far.”

“Well, it's no all-expense paid ticket to Ilvermorny,” Chastity said with a blush, wringing her hands together, “Besides, I don't even know what college I'd want to go to. Mom said women like me should focus on just finding a husband.”

“Nonsense. I'm sure you could thrive at any school you choose to go to,” Percival argued strongly, winning a small smile from the girl, “I bet you could even make it at Yale if you so wanted.”

“O-oh,” Chastity blushed, and with a shy laugh, she mentioned, “I don't think Yale would be the school for me, but... thank you, sir.”

Percival granted her one last smile, then turned his attention to Modesty. “And what about you?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, “What grade are you in?”

“Fifth.” Modesty answered with a nod, “And I get good grades too! I never failed a class, ever!”

“My, that's impressive,” Percival grinned, sounding purely honest, “Where would you want to go to for high school?”

Chastity hummed as she thought, her eyes casting up into the sky, then down into her lap before she decided, “Ilvermorny, probably! That's where Credence goes.”

“Ilvermorny is a good school,” Percival agreed, only to pause and chuckle before saying, “And I'm not just saying that because I work there. Many great students go to Ilvermorny, and from there go on to do many great things.” Then he looked at Chastity and said, “Not to say that those who don't go to Ilvermorny won't do great things. The three of you are all bright; you just need to stay confident. Stay determined.” He looked at Credence, and said, “And stay on top of your grades.”

“I was doing fine before you dropped me to failing,” Credence mumbled, immediately regretting it. He pulled his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms over them, adding quietly, “Sorry.”

“No. You're right,” Percival agreed with a frown, “I was upset. It wasn't fair. I just hate seeing my... my students give up. But just to let you know, I didn't actually fail you.”

“What?” Credence asked, looking up at Percival, and the man offered him an apologetic smile.

“I said it to scare you and make you work harder, but you got a B minus on the quiz,” Percival explained, and then pretended to look caught. “But I'm not supposed to tell you that.”

Credence blinked up at him, confused but confided in. Trusted.

Turning his attention back to the girls, he asked them, “Did you like the bedroom?”

“It's amazing! The bed is so soft.” Modesty commented excitedly.

“The view outside the window is so nice,” Chastity said with a smile, “I'm just excited that we _have_ a window.”

“You don't mind that you and Modesty have to share?” Percival asked directly, his eyes inquisitive.

Modesty frowned and looked towards Chastity, who glanced at Modesty from the corner of her eye. “Actually,” she began to say, and Credence turned to look at her, then at Modesty, who looked nervous. Chastity glanced at the two of them, clenched her jaw tight, and said in an even voice, “I'd rather not be moved. I've had to sleep in the room next to Mom and hear her when she was home. I don't think I want to be alone.”

Chastity reached out and grabbed Modesty's hand, looking at her little sister with a serious gaze, and she said to her, “But I swear, if you take my phone, I'm making you sleep in Credence's room.”

Modesty giggled in delight. Credence smiled warmly, nudging Chastity in the knee.

“Fantastic.” Percival said with a smile, “I'm glad.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, Percival taking the time to check on dinner while the Barebones settled in the silence. A minute passed until Percival returned, and as he sat in his chair, Modesty asked him, “Mr. Graves?”

“Percival,” He insisted, before asking, “Yes? What's the matter?”

“What are you like?” She asked, and Percival looked surprised.

“Oh,” He spoke, a small smile pulling at his lips, “Well, I... I'm a professor at Ilvermorny; I teach English to Juniors and Seniors. In my spare time, I read--”

“Is there a Mrs. Graves?” Modesty asked innocently, and Percival immediately snorted.

“No, absolutely not.” He laughed, and the reaction was so strange to Credence that he couldn't help but blurt out:

“Is there a Mr. Graves?”

This time, Percival grew nervous, an awkwardness in his posture, and he replied, “Ah... No. There isn't.”

Both Chastity and Modesty looked at Credence, but Credence kept his eyes forward. “Was there?” Credence asked next, but instead of a shy look, Percival's gaze turned hard. He looked at Credence, straight in the eye.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Percival asked, and this time Credence grew tense. He turned his head away sharply, and behind him, he heard Chastity mutter under her breath. Percival slowly relaxed in his chair, a minute feeling of guilt filling him, and he let out a breath before saying, “There wasn't ever another Mr. Graves.” Credence frowned and curled in on himself a bit more, until Percival stated, “However, there has been many handsome men before.”

Surprised, Credence looked up at Percival. The man offered him a small smile, then looked back at Chastity when she shifted about in her seat.

“Mr. Graves, sir?” She asked, her voice high-pitched and nervous.

“Hmm?”

“Does that mean you're, erm...” Chastity turned red, but Modesty gasped and looked as if she just recalled the word.

“Oh! Oh!” She said excitedly, patting her hands against her knees and sitting upright, “A faggot!”

Credence jolted and quickly spun on his sister, eyes wide as he sputtered out, “Modesty!” He turned back to Percival again, about to apologize, but the man had started to laugh.

“No,” He chuckled in delight, then paused and said, “Well, yes, but don't ever say that word again, okay? Gay. Homosexual. Much better choices.”

“So you're gay?” Chastity asked in a whisper, looking as if she saw a ghost, “But... the Bible--”

Percival held up a hand, silencing her with the gesture. With a stern look, he kept her silent, and when he was certain she wasn't going to say another word, he said in a quiet, commanding voice, “I will allow you to practice in any religion you so choose, but I will not tolerate a close-minded attitude in this house.”

Chastity gaped at Percival, her eyes wide, vulnerable... and then enraged. Getting up, Chastity argued once again, “But the Bible _says_ \--”

“'If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them.'” Percival quoted for her, meeting her gaze with a calm fury, and Credence felt himself beginning to panic. What was Percival going to do to her if she didn't back off? Mary Lou never raised a hand to them, but that didn't mean she didn't hurt them. Maybe Percival wouldn't be so off-hands with his punishments.

Percival tilted his head, his stare dark, challenging, and he asked quietly, “Will you follow your Bible and kill me, then?”

“What?” Chastity whispered, aghast.

“They shall surely be put to death, Chastity. I am an abomination, am I not?” He gestured to himself, briefly glancing towards Credence, but he said nothing about the boy, “Will you throw stones?”

“I—I... M-murder is a sin!” She claimed, and Percival scoffed. Credence, meanwhile, only looked hurt.

“Well which is more important, Chastity? Following God's command by putting me to death, or bearing the guilt of letting an abomination walk the Earth?” Percival asked, staring her down.

“God... God will s-strike you down...” She stuttered, and Percival offered her a cold, indifferent smile, and he extended his hands out to his sides.

“God has punished me already for my sins.” He stated in a gentle tone, his brows lifting, “He has punished, and then he has forgiven.” He looked at Credence again, a hopeful stare, “He always forgives, because he is a forgiving, loving God, isn't he?”

Credence nodded silently, hope in his eyes, but Chastity still looked confused and upset.

Modesty reached out to take Chastity's hand, pulling on it until the girl was turning to face her. With her giant doe-eyes, Modesty whispered, “Please don't kill him, Chastity. He's really nice...”

“But he's--” She tried to argue again, but it was Credence who had had enough.

“Chastity,” He spoke up, catching not only her attention but Percival's as well, “That's enough. Please.”

“But Credence--” Chastity begged, trying to get him to see from her perspective. Credence grit his teeth and pushed himself to his feet, yanking off his Miraculous and holding it up for everyone to see.

“I have killed people, Chastity!” Credence shouted, throwing the pendant, but Percival was quick to catch it, “Five people! One of them right in front of you!”

“Credence!” Chastity hissed, glancing purposefully at Graves.

“If being gay is worse than a being a murderer, then you will have to kill me before you kill him.” Credence declared, eyes wet. Chastity looked absolutely frightened by his demands, and with a step backwards, she collapsed back onto the couch.

“Credence...” She whispered, emotional, and a moment later, Percival stood.

“I'm sorry,” He mumbled, glancing between the siblings while still holding Credence's Miraculous, “I... didn't handle this conversation well.”

Credence huffed and looked away, wiping at his eyes before shaking his head. “It's not your fault.” He mumbled, and Percival gripped the pendant tightly in his hand.

Sighing, Percival looked between them one last time, then said, “I'll serve dinner.”

As soon as he left, Credence turned away from his sisters and thought about leaving, but he froze when Modesty asked, “Chastity? Why is being gay bad?”

“B-because... Because there is no procreation. No purpose for it other than lust and adultery.” Chastity explained slowly.

“But Newt's gay.” Modesty said, and Credence spun around, eyes wide, “He told me so. When he showed me Susan. And he's a nice guy. He can't be bad.”

“Newt?” Chastity whispered, disbelieving, but Modesty nodded firmly.

“And he told me the last time we went that he was in love with...” She paused, then looked at Credence, looking as if the whole world was just explained to her. Credence clenched his jaw, and while Chastity was still staring at Modesty, Credence slowly shook his head. Modesty's lips parted, just the slightest bit, and her brows furrowed deeply.

Turning back to Chastity, Modesty insisted, “Newt isn't a bad man. He loves someone who loves him back.” Then she looked at Credence, “Credence isn't a bad man, either. He... hurt people to protect us... but he's _not_ bad.” Looking back at Chastity, she asked, “If they aren't bad, then why should Mr. Graves be?”

Chastity frowned, but she didn't respond. Instead, she ducked her head and pressed her hands firmly together, twiddling her thumbs. Credence sighed and muttered, “I'll go see if Mr. Graves needs help.” He stepped around the couch, pausing at the back of it, and with another sigh, he leaned over the side and kissed the top of Modesty's head, and then Chastity's. Afterwards, he walked towards the kitchen, needing to get away from the situation.

Alone in the kitchen with Percival, Credence saw a pile of plates and went to pick them up. Percival glanced behind him as he removed dinner from the oven, and immediately he said, “Set those down. Come here.”

Credence frowned but obeyed anyways. Setting the dishes down, he stepped closer to Percival, watching as he began to carve the cooked chicken. Percival glanced towards Credence, and when he was close enough, he paused his carving to pick up the pendant from the counter. Credence sniffed, then slowly took the pendant, stroking the metal before he slipped it back around his neck.

“Thank you,” He whispered, and Percival picked the knife up again, resuming to carve. “I... I'm sorry about Chastity.”

“I'm sorry, too. It must have been hard growing up in that sort of environment, especially considering...” Percival looked his way, and Credence met his eye for only a moment before he lowered his gaze again. Percival sighed, put the knife down again, and he put a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing reassuringly, “How long have you known?”

“Known?” Credence asked under his breath.

“That you were gay,” Percival explained. Credence frowned, and he thought back to when he first saw Newt, before he even knew it was Animagus.

“The first day Theseus brought me to his house for tutoring.” He decided. Percival looked at him in surprise at that.

“Theseus? Really?” He asked, and Credence smirked and shook his head.

“No.” He mumbled, smiling a little, “Newt.”

“Newt?” He asked, frowning, “Who is that, his brother?”

“Mhm.” Credence confirmed, smiling a little, “He's very kind.”

“So you haven't known for long.” Percival deduced, and Credence shook his head. “Does it bother you? That you're gay?”

Credence sighed through his nose and mumbled, “I think it should... but how I feel...” He shook his head and mumbled, “It can't be wrong. Not like killing. Not like what Grindelwald made me do.”

Percival paused at that, his hand tightening on the knife, and with a faraway look, he whispered Credence's words, just audible enough for Credence to hear it.

“Not like what Grindelwald made me do.”

 


	17. Chapter 16: Papa Graves pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival doesn't know when not to spoil the kids. He's just psyched that he has kids now. Well, almost.

Dinner was a quiet affair. After the argument, Chastity seemed keen on keeping her mouth shut, though whether it was to save face or because she was sincerely guilty, Credence didn't know. What Credence did know was that Percival was a great cook, maybe not as great as Mr. Scamander, but he knew how to roast a chicken and potatoes. Modesty and Chastity were practically inhaling their servings, and when Credence lifted his plate to share with his sisters, Percival stopped him and grabbed their plates, filling it back up with seconds.

“We'll have plenty for lunch tomorrow,” He told them, a small smile on his face, “Please, don't ever go hungry while you're under my roof.”

Modesty looked thrilled at the idea. Credence thanked Percival kindly. Chastity kept her head down and merely continued to eat.

It had felt like an hour had gone by, but in reality, the sky had only just begun to darken. Percival was clearing the table while Modesty and Chastity pulled their shoes back on, getting ready to go back to Mary Lou's house to collect their things. Credence was already ready to go, so he was in the kitchen, helping Percival with storing the leftovers in four separate containers in the fridge. As soon as they were ready to go, Percival led the Barebones back into his car and began to drive them home.

“I'll be waiting outside for you three,” He told them just as they were pulling into the driveway, “I wouldn't want to intrude on your last moments within this house. But if you need help with anything, I'll be right here.”

Modesty thanked Percival happily before she slipped out of the car and ran up to the front door. Chastity followed after her silently, still trying to avoid Percival's peripherals. Credence gave Percival a thankful look, then promised him, “We won't be long,” before he slipped out himself. It was a fact that Credence was sure of. They didn't have a lot in the Barebone household to begin with.

Credence was done first. He fit most of his clothes in his old backpack, tucked his shoes into the straps on the front, and he tossed the little odds and ends he had into the pockets. His room laid bare, but it was barely any different from before, and the thought made Credence sad. He stood in the doorway, staring back at the shabby bed, the decrepit wardrobe, and the balding rug. It wasn't a lot, it never was, but it had been his home for nearly five years.

With a brief sigh, Credence turned away from his bedroom in the attic, and he headed downstairs to help his sisters. Chastity was already halfway done, but Modesty was lagging behind. Credence slipped into her room, helping her gather and fold her clothes, and he tucked them into a pillowcase for her to take with.

“Credence?” Modesty asked in a small voice, looking up at her older brother. Credence looked back at her and smiled.

“Yes?”

“Do you think Mr. Graves would want to adopt us one day?” She asked, and Credence felt his heart skip. It had been the same thing she asked about Mary Lou when they were first being fostered by her, and while the answer had inevitably been yes, Credence wished it hadn't happened.

“I don't know, Modesty,” He told her, a touch of sorrow in his voice, “But I think he'll make a wonderful father, either way.”

“You really think so?” Modesty asked, picking up her stuffed rabbit, which was nearly as old as she was and it showed, and she held it to her stomach, “Do you think he'll read to us? Do you think he'll kiss us goodnight?”

Credence smiled a bit wider, and he gave her a kiss on the forehead before saying, “I think so. But if he ever forgets, I'll always be there to read to you and kiss you goodnight.”

Modesty beamed at his answer, and she tucked her stuffed rabbit into the pillowcase as well. After a few more trinkets, Credence tied up the pillowcase and carried it with his backpack. Chastity met them at the door, holding an actual suitcase, though it was extremely dated. She had always been Ma's favorite, but Credence never held that against her.

Holding Modesty's hand, Credence led his sisters out of the Barebone household for the last time.

\-----------

The second they returned to Percival's home, Credence took Modesty to her bedroom to help her unpack. She only filled up one dresser in the wardrobe she had, including her old, scuffed up school shoes, but she wasn't bothered by it for a second. She ran to her bed and jumped on top of it, giggling when a few of the stuffed animals toppled to the floor as a result. Credence smiled and knelt beside her bed, picking up a few of the animals and settling them back on the mattress.

“Tired?” He asked her, raising a brow, and Modesty defiantly shook her head no. “Really? It's already eight--”

He gasped, then checked his watch. It was almost eight o'clock. Newt said he was going to visit him tonight!

“I-I forgot to do something,” He told Modesty, giving her a rushed kiss on the forehead before scrambling to his feet and exiting out of the bedroom. He yelped when he almost smacked right into Percival, but he didn't even pause long enough to properly apologize. Instead, the word streamed out of his mouth as he scurried to the living room, finding his sister sitting in the corner of the couch, feet tucked under her and phone open in her hand.

“Chastity!” He said, approaching her from behind the couch, “Please tell me you have Theseus' number!”

Chastity gave him a bewildered look, but she pulled out her old phone and started scrolling through it, “Why do you need it?” She asked before holding it out, allowing Credence to type the number into his own phone. His fingers slipped and he pressed the wrong buttons, but he figured he would get used to it in time.

“I forgot something there,” Credence lied, hitting the dial button and then ditching the living room for his bedroom.

He closed the door behind him, wondering if that would be enough to keep curious ears from listening in, but he didn't have much time to worry about it when the phone was picked up.

“Hello?” Theseus answered, and Credence let out a relieved sigh.

“Theseus, it's Credence, erm...” Damn. He didn't think of an excuse, “Is Newt still there? Can I t-talk to him?”

Silence on the line, and then a long, drawn out, “ _Why?_ ”

“B-because I... need to ask him something,” Credence decided, more out of panic that actual thought. More silence followed.

“ _What?_ ” He asked in that same drawn out tone. Credence groaned, trying to wrack his mind for something that he _knew_ Theseus didn't know and Newt would. School wouldn't work, but he needed something more than a simple 'how is he doing?'

An idea popped into his mind so fast that Credence stumbled over his words, blathering out a string of sounds and syllables. He sucked in a sharp breath right at the end and felt his cheeks flare when Theseus sputtered out in laughter.

“What?” He asked again in between gasps, and Credence groaned.

“I-I need to know about the, erm, about the Emperor Penguins.” He said, calmer this time.

Still laughing, Theseus asked, “Why do you need to know?”

“Please, Theseus, it's really important.” Credence begged, and Theseus let out a long, annoyed sigh.

“Fine, but _just_ to let you know, I _just_ got comfortable in bed.” He told Credence, and the Barebone smiled and whispered an earnest 'thank you.'

Away from the phone, Credence could hear Theseus calling out for Newt, following by his footsteps on the stairway. Muffled voices trickled over the speaker, and then the shuffle of hands, and finally Newt's curious voice asking, “Credence?”

“Newt,” Credence breathed, a smile pulling at his lips, “Good. You haven't left yet.”

“No, I was just about to,” Newt said slowly, and Credence smiled more.

“Look, Newt, I f-forgot, um...” He bit his lip, then asked quietly, “Is... Theseus listening?”

“No,” Newt answered casually, a slight tone of amusement.

“Okay. Good.” He took a breath, then said, “I forgot I was going somewhere. Tonight. I-I'm not going to be home.”

“Oh.” Newt replied, disappointed, “Well...” he paused, then said quietly, “Theseus, I'll give it back when we're done.”

“Alright, jeez,” Theseus said in the background.

A few moments passed before Newt spoke again. “Where are you, then? Are you staying long? I can wait for you...”

“No, I'm going to be gone for... for a while.” Credence sighed, brows furrowed, “I'm sorry, I want to tell you, but... It's... weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah. I don't want you to think... well... I'm just not going to be home.” Credence told him, and Newt sighed.

“Alright... well, what about tomorrow?”

“No. I'm not going to be home for a while.” Credence said, beginning to pace the room. Newt stayed silent for a moment longer.

“Credence, where are you?” He asked again, and Credence sighed and ducked his head, dropping down on his bed.

“I-I... I'm moving, Newt. Not far or anything, but...” He clenched his jaw, then gritted out, “My sisters are being taken in by a new foster parent and I'm moving in with them and... It's weird.”

“Uh huh...” Newt replied, still doubtful, and he asked, “And why can't I know where you are?”

“Because, Newt, it's... _weird_.” Credence said again, emphasizing the word as if that would make him understand, “Please, just... I can call when it's...”

“ _Not_ weird?” Newt asked, and Credence let out a sigh.

“Yeah...”

Newt hummed, a calculating noise, and then he asked, “Does this have anything to do with Grindelwald?”

“No.” Credence answered quickly. Stern. “I'm really just moving, Newt.”

A relenting sigh, and in a voice filled with defeat, Newt mumbled, “Alright. I'll wait for you to call. But call _my_ phone, okay?”

“Oh. Okay. What's your number?” Credence asked, and Newt snorted in delight.

“I'll text you my number, how about that?” He said kindly, “Now go, I'm sure you have to unpack.”

“Right. Thank you,” Credence told him, and in a spur of the moment, he added, “I'll miss you.”

Newt chuckled happily, replying shyly, “Oh, ha, yeah. I'll... miss you. Too. I'll miss you too.”

After saying their goodbyes, Credence hung up and collapsed backwards on his bed, sprawling out on the mattress, and then marveling at the fact that he _could_ sprawl out on it. He let out a long breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and smiled.

“Credence!” Modesty called out from across the hall, “Where did you go?”

Smiling even more, Credence got up from his bed, leaving his phone behind, and went back into Modesty's room. “Sorry, sorry,” He said, helping her into her pajamas, and then into her bed, tucking her in tightly. “Do you want me to read you a story?” He asked, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Modesty shook her head sternly, then asked, “Do you think Mr. Graves will read to me?”

“Do you want me to ask?” Credence smiled, and when Modesty began to nod, Credence chuckled and got up, patting her over the blankets, “I'll be right back.”

Credence stepped out of the bedroom and wandered around the house, peering into the kitchen first, then the living room, and then the office. He didn't find Percival anywhere, so he started up the stairs, looking straight into the bedroom.

Percival was there, sitting on his bed, wearing pajamas. Chastity was there, too, standing a distance away with her arms crossed over her stomach, defensive. Credence immediately went on the defense, hurrying into the room and pulling Chastity closer to him. “What's the matter? What's going on?”

“Nothing, Credence,” Chastity reassured him, putting a hand on his chest to keep him calm, “I-I just... I was talking to...”

“She came to apologize,” Percival cut in, looking up at the two of them, fingers pressed together, “Thank you, Chastity. It means a lot to me.”

Chastity took a breath, eyes wet, and she nodded quietly. Credence squeezed her shoulders, then said, “Go lay down.” Chastity nodded slowly, beginning to walk away, and Credence watched her go.

As soon as she was down the stairs, Percival asked, “Did you need me for something?”

“Yes. Well, no, but,” Credence glanced at Percival, then said, “Modesty wants to know if you can read her to sleep.”

Percival blinked up at Credence, a look of sheer awe in his eyes, and he asked in a thick voice, “She wants me to read to her?”

Credence nodded, crossing his arms, “All we've had at home is Dr. Seuss and the first _Harry Potter_ book. She's interested in your... your book collection.”

Percival's mouth worked silently for a moment, and then he muttered, “I don't think I have a children's book... Out of all the things I bought, not one of them was a children's book.”

Credence's brows raised for a moment, and he said to Percival, “She just wants to hear someone's voice as she falls asleep, Mr. Graves. It doesn't matter what you read.”

“Right,” Percival whispered, getting up from the bed, only to hesitate once again, “But what book would she like?”

Credence smiled a little, suggesting lightly, “Why don't you grab a few books and let her choose? She likes pretty covers.”

“Right,” Percival said again, nodding, “Pretty covers. Okay.”

With one last glance at Credence, Percival headed downstairs, a nervous but thrilled look in his eyes. Credence chuckled to himself, and soon followed him down, closing Percival's bedroom door behind him. He went downstairs slowly, allowing Percival enough time to collect whatever books he thought might grab Modesty's attention, and by the time he made it to the girls' bedroom, Percival was there, sitting at the foot of Modesty's bed, with a copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ in his hands.

Credence stood in the doorway, watching as Modesty laid in her bed, her worn out stuffed bunny tucked in her arms, and her sleepy eyes straining to stay open, listening as Percival read. Chastity, laying in her own bed, had her back to the room, but Credence could see her turning her head towards them, listening just as intently. Deciding they were in good hands, Credence stepped away from the bedroom and entered his own, closing the door behind him. He sat on his bed, glancing towards his phone, then towards the wardrobe where his new clothes hanged. On the desk was the brand new copy of _Hamlet_. A weird sense of detachment overcame him, then. Everything around him felt foggy and fantastical as if he were merely imagining the whole thing.

His thoughts began to fade and his senses dulled. His eyes grew distant as the world around him blurred. Suddenly, he was sitting back in his room in the attic, rickety old bed underneath him, broken wardrobe across from him, balding rug under his feet. Mary Lou was screaming for him downstairs, and each time she did, Credence could feel his lungs strain as he held his breath. Modesty and Chastity were down there with her. He needed to go, needed to make sure she kept her rage on him, she couldn't touch them, he couldn't let her--

Tapping on his window startled him out of his own head. Panting, Credence glanced around the room, seeing his new clothes, his new bed, and his new desk.

And above that, a window with a white windowsill on the outside, where a little bluejay was currently perched, little head tilting this way and that before it began to peck restlessly on the glass. “What?” Credence whispered, slowly getting up from the bed and creeping towards the window. He didn't want to scare the bird away, not really, but it was so odd to see...

The bird continued to tap, almost irritably, and when Credence finally slid the window open, it fluttered in with a tweet. Credence gasped and jolted out of its way, about to shout for Percival when the bird exploded into a burst of light, depositing a _very_ disgruntled and _very_ handsome young man on his bed.

“Credence Barebone, you--!” Animagus began to lecture, but Credence was on top of him in a flash, covering Animagus' mouth with both hands, a look of desperation in his eyes.

“Shh!” He whispered, but Animagus merely huffed against his palm, “I'm sorry—the--the foster parent is just across the hall.”

Animagus' expression went flat, and with a muffled mumble, he transformed back into Newt, though he still looked upset. Credence slowly pulled his hands away, and he relaxed when Newt began to whisper, “You worried me!”

“I worried you?” Credence whispered back, surprised, “I told you, I was moving.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn't tell me _where_ , you didn't tell me _who_ the new foster parent is, and you wouldn't even explain why you're moving so suddenly!” Newt complained in a rush, pushing at Credence's chest at first, only to then grab him by the front of his shirt and yank him onto the bed beside him. He wrapped his arms around Credence's middle, hugging him tightly, “I thought you were in trouble... I thought maybe Grindelwald...”

Credence sighed, a smile alighting his face, and he ran his hand over Newt's hair before he gave him a soft kiss. Newt returned it sweetly, and then promptly pushed him back and whispered angrily, “No! I'm mad at you! Do you know how many houses I broke into looking for you?”

“How many?” Credence asked, brows raised. Newt pressed his lips into a line, thinking about it for a long minute, before giving up with a huff.

“A lot, okay!” Credence began to laugh, trying to keep his voice down all the while, and he muffled the noises that slipped out by pressing gentle kisses to Newt's face and neck. Newt squirmed in his arms, blushing bright red and gasping whenever Credence kissed a sensitive spot, and he pushed weakly at Credence's chest, mumbling with a bite, “Don't... Don't _kiss_ me, I'm mad at you!”

Credence laughed again, and he nuzzled his nose against Newt's cheek before whispering against his skin, “I'm glad you came looking for me.”

“Yeah, well you didn't make it easy!” Newt huffed, pushing Credence again until the Barebone boy was falling backwards, bouncing a little on the mattress. Newt climbed over him, pinning him down to the springy mattress. “I don't even think you deserve kisses.”

Credence sighed pleasantly, settling his hands on Newt's hips and smiling up at him, “Then how can I apologize?”

“Well, _first_ of all, you can let me borrow some pajamas,” Newt bargained, and Credence began to nod, “And _second_ of all, I'm sleeping over. No questions asked.”

“Newt,” Credence began to argue, but the man crossed his arms and rose a brow, and Credence had no choice but to give in. With a blush, Credence mumbled, “Okay, but _please_ be quiet. My sisters are across the hall and Mr. Graves is in there with them.”

“Mr. Graves?” Newt asked in surprise, “Theseus' English professor? He's your foster parent?”

Credence grimaced, then slowly nodded and muttered, “I told you it was weird...”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Newt agreed, uncrossing his arms and setting his hands on Credence's chest, “Well... gives you an advantage, doesn't it?”

Smiling, Credence shrugged and mumbled, “Yeah, I guess.”

Newt smiled a little, then got up from Credence's bed and looked around his bedroom, picking up the copy of _Hamlet_ for a moment, then looking through Credence's wardrobe. He began pulling out a spare pair of pajamas and immediately began to change, not even caring that Credence was watching him from his bed. Credence smiled as soon as Newt was down to his boxers. Seemed like today's flavor was mint green boxers with a melting blue ice cream pattern. Credence tilted his head sideways, a stray curl of heat in his chest, but it vanished as quickly as Newt's boxers when he slid on Credence's pajama pants.

He pulled on an overlarge shirt afterwards, an old, moth-eaten one Credence had, and he promptly came back to bed. He dropped onto the mattress with a bounce right beside Credence, smiling at the man playfully before he wrapped his arms and legs around him, squeezing right up next to him, even though the bed was more than large enough to accommodate them both.

“Why didn't you tell me you were moving?” Newt asked, resting his cheek on Credence's shoulder, then smiling when he felt Credence's hand find the small of his back, already beginning to massage his spine.

“I was going to,” Credence assured him, peering down at Newt, “We weren't supposed to move until the end of the week.”

“What happened?”

Credence shrugged, frowning, “He wanted to treat us to dinner and he and my sisters got one well. Ma hasn't been home for two weeks, so of course the girls wanted to move in as soon as they could.” He squeezed Newt closer with a sigh, “I... forgot that you were going to come over until just before eight.”

Newt chuckled and said, “Theseus said you wanted to ask me about Emperor Penguins.”

“Yeah, I... I couldn't think of a better excuse.” Credence admitted shyly, and Newt only laughed cutely.

“You know what else Theseus told me?” Newt hummed, and when Credence asked, he grinned and said, “That you two had a heart-to-heart on the way to school.” Credence turned bright red, already knowing what Newt was referencing to, but he didn't seem keen on leaving it at that, “He thinks it's so sweet that you see me as a brother.”

“I—I...” Credence stammered, and Newt began to laugh all over again.

“I'm sorry, I'm only teasing,” He apologized sweetly, giving Credence a soft kiss on his neck. Credence gave him a smile, letting him know that he was okay with it, and he held Newt tighter in his arms.

They whispered to each other for a while longer, the night air from the window bringing them closer together. Background noises of the city just outside a gentle harmony to Newt's soft voice, the street lights casting him in a soft orange glow. When he grew tired, Newt tucked his cheek closer on Credence's shoulder and closed his eyes, then shifted about and whined until Credence pulled the blankets over them. When he was finally settled and content, he let his eyes close and he mumbled a good night under his breath. Credence only smiled and continued to rub his back, soothing Newt to sleep.

As Newt slept soundly, Credence took the time to look over his boyfriend. His face was spattered with freckles, his wavy hair wind-mussed and soft. His lips were pale pink and felt soft against the pad of his thumb. Shifting around a little, he found they were just as soft against his own lips. Newt hummed in his sleep and curled closer to Credence, mumbling nonsensical words under his breath.

Smiling, Credence got comfortable and closed his eyes, intent on following Newt into unconsciousness. His breath drew slower and his limbs grew heavy and numb. Newt's warmth was soothing him into a dream state, pulling him in as quickly as the tide. The distant honking of cars and the twittering of night bugs droned into static, and then silence, and Credence fell asleep.

Only to startle awake moments later when Modesty woke up screaming.

Both he and Newt jolted up, Newt half-awake and confused and Credence already on his feet, telling his boyfriend to stay put. He took care to close his door right after slipping out and he quickly entered his sister's room.

Chastity was up already, laying with the crying Modesty, holding her to her chest as she wailed pitifully. Credence shuddered and sat down behind her, wrapping them both in his arms and rocking them back and forth.

“We have to go home,” Modesty began to ramble, “Momma's going to be so mad, Credence! We have to go, we can't stay here!”

“Shh, Modesty,” Chastity soothed her, but her voice was shaking with emotion as well. It took a toll on her, seeing Modesty cry. Though Chastity liked to play the cold and distant sister, she was a sympathetic being, and she cared a lot more for her sister than she cared to admit. “It's okay, now. We're home now.”

“No! We have to go home before Momma comes back!” She sobbed, pulling away from Chastity's chest to stare up at her with wet, cry-reddened eyes. She looked at Credence, too, and begged, “Please, Credence, she'll abandon us!”

“What's going on?” Percival asked as he appeared in the doorway, looking just as frazzled as Modesty, “What's happening? Modesty—why are you crying?” He approached quickly, then gasped when Modesty squirmed out of Chastity's grip and collided against his stomach, hugging him tightly and crying into his shirt.

“We have to go home, please, sir, we can't stay!”

“Modesty!” Chastity begged, getting up to peel her off of Percival, but the man lifted a hand to stop her, then lowered himself to his knees so he could look Modesty in the eye.

“Do you really want to go home?” He asked her, and Modesty immediately began to nod. “Okay. I'll take you home. But we'll go in the morning, okay?”

“We have to go now!” Modesty demanded, still panicked, and Percival shook his head.

“We'll go in the morning. If we go now, we'll only wake your momma up. You don't want to do that, do you?” He bargained, and this time, Modesty fell quiet as she thought. When she tentatively shook her head no, Percival smiled and brushed her hair back, whispering, “Let's go back to sleep, Modesty. Do you want me to tuck you in?”

Immediately, Modesty shook her head with a firm frown, and said, “I want to sleep with Chastity!”

“Alright. Then let's get you and Chastity in her bed.” Percival agreed, looking up at the older girl who got off of Modesty's bed with a nod. As soon as the older girl was crawling into her bed, Modesty was following her, and Percival tucked the both of them in, nice and tight.

“Close your eyes, little lady,” Percival bid, stroking his thumb over her forehead, then wiping away a few stray tears, “We'll go home in the morning.”

“Stay?” Modesty asked in a quiet voice, and Percival offered her a kind, if not tired, smile.

“Of course. I'll be right here until you fall asleep.” He said, sitting down at her and Chastity's feet, settling his hand on her leg on top of the sheets. Credence stayed sitting on Modesty's bed, watching them just as vigilantly, and as soon as Modesty was falling asleep again, Percival looked up at him, “Nightmare?”

“She got them a lot when she was younger,” Chastity answered in a quiet voice, catching Percival's attention, “She was doing so much better, but...”

“But she still gets them when something big changes.” Credence finished up, staring down at his lap, “When we first moved into Ma's house for fostering, she got them for a whole week, every night. Always the same one.”

“What is it?” Percival asked, frowning when both Chastity and Credence grew uncomfortable.

“Well... She wasn't always a foster kid. When she was five, she and her whole family were in a house fire. Whole thing burned down right on top of them. She was the only one who lived.” Chastity explained, looking down at the sleeping Modesty, gently stroking her hair. “We were put in the same house for a while, the three of us. Credence and I would be right there with her every time she woke up. Always begging for the same thing.”

“To go home to her momma.” Credence mumbled, looking sad, “She didn't understand it back then. She thought her momma took her sisters and brothers and left without her. She only remembers the fire in her nightmares.”

Percival let out a soft sigh, processing the information, and then asked, “Do you two have similar nightmares? Of your... family?”

“I used to. Got too old for them.” Chastity muttered, “Car crash when I was a toddler. Car seat saved me, but both of my parents were gone.”

Percival nodded, then looked at Credence, a silent question. Credence, however, stayed silent. Chastity answered for him.

“He... doesn't remember his family.” She said carefully, “Didn't know his parents. As far as CPS told him, his mother committed suicide shortly after he was born. He was still in the hospital. No one else came for him.”

“She committed suicide?” Percival whispered, sounding both horrified and hollow, “Why?”

“No one knows. She didn't leave a suicide note.” Chastity mumbled, and Credence squeezed his hands into fists on his lap.

“Ma told the nurse my dad was going to come for me,” Credence mentioned, and he could see Percival tense, “But no one ever came. Not my dad, not anyone else. She hadn't even named me... I was nothing after she died. I was no one.”

He stood from Modesty's bed, turning to leave, and Percival stood as well. “Credence,” He called out, stopping the boy before he ran away, but he didn't turn to look at him. That was fine. Percival didn't think he would have the courage if he did. Licking his lips, Percival said, “Maybe... Maybe he thought it would be better... Maybe he couldn't take care of you.”

Credence thought about it, but the age-old pain of being abandoned was too much to bear. In a tight voice, Credence muttered, “Then he shouldn't have made my Ma suffer.”

“Credence,” Chastity whispered, but he didn't stick around this time. He went to his bedroom and shut the door behind him, locking it tight and pausing there, feeling the tears swell. He leaned his forehead against the wood, tried to keep the pain inside, and then gasped when he felt arms curl around his waist and link over his chest. He forgot all about Newt.

“What happened?” Newt asked gently, rubbing the center of Credence's chest, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Credence whispered, clenching his jaw right after so he didn't start to cry. Newt, bless his soul, didn't push him. Instead, he pulled Credence away from the door, turning him around slowly.

“Do you want to lay back down?” He asked instead, and Credence began to nod. Newt walked him back to the bed, holding onto his hands the whole way there, and then pulled him down on the mattress. He laid Credence on his back before he settled down on top of him, resting chest-to-chest over him and pulling the blankets up over their bodies. His weight was comforting, grounding Credence to the here and now, reminding him that he was no longer abandoned in a hospital by a mother who didn't even want to die with her son.

He had people who loved him, now. Chastity, Modesty, Newt. He had someone who would take care of him and his sisters. Percival. He was someone now. He was Credence. He was Obscurus.

He was important, and he wouldn't ever let that change. Not while he could help it.

 


	18. Chapter 17: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH WE'RE HALFWAY THEEERE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> has it almost been three weeks?
> 
> Whoops
> 
> Hey all! :D Hope you didn't forget about me ;DDDD
> 
> I literally had the hardest time trying to decide if I should up the rating or not. Please let me know. Next chapter could be a potential, but I'll keep it PG if you guys want it PG.

Towards the end of the week, the Graves household had an unexpected visitor. It was later in the evening, long after dinner and just when the girls started getting ready for sleep. Credence had just stepped out of the shower—he didn't take any longer than ten minutes, but he reveled in the hot water—and he was halfway dressed when the doorbell rang frantically.

Percival stepped out of the girl's room, interrupted in the middle of his reading. Credence stepped out of his bedroom, just pulling on his shirt, and he watched as Percival marched towards the front door. The bell was still ringing, a constant, chaotic chime echoing through the house, and when Percival finally opened the door, none other than Porpentina Goldstein shoved her way inside.

“Credence!” Porpentina shouted, shoving Percival out of the way so she could run to Credence' side. She grabbed Credence by the face, cupping his cheeks with both hands and turning his head this way and that, and when she deemed him unharmed, she hugged him tightly and breathed, “Oh, thank God!”

“Ms. Goldstein?” Credence asked, obviously confused. Percival, at the other end of the house, merely closed the door and stared at them, looking absolutely miffed.

“Oh—oh, and the girls!” Tina gasped, tearing away from Credence to go into the girls' room, hugging Chastity first, and then Modesty. Percival made his way towards Credence, glancing at him briefly before he stepped into the bedroom.

“Ms. Goldstein,” Percival said in a strong voice, one that demanded obedience, but Tina didn't look at all phased.

“You bastard!” She spat out, only to stop and say to Modesty, “Oh, I'm sorry, never repeat that word, sweetie.” Covering Modesty's ears, Tina said again, “You utter bastard! You could have let me know!”

“Porpentina, let's not have this conversation here,” Percival commanded, but Tina looked defiant. Still, she got up and let go of Modesty, all but stomping out of the room and heading to Percival's office. The man let out an annoyed sigh, then looked at the children before telling them in a much gentler voice, “Alright, go to bed, you three. Modesty, I'll read to you tomorrow night, I promise.”

“It's okay, Mr. Graves,” Modesty forgave him with a smile, “Good night.”

“Good night, Modesty.” He smiled back, and then looked towards Chastity, “Good night, Chastity.”

“Good night, sir,” Chastity responded softly, laying down in her bed. He stepped out of the bedroom and looked to Credence, gesturing for him to go to his bedroom.

“Good night, Credence.” He told him, but Credence didn't return it. Instead, he kept his eyes on Percival.

“Is everything okay?” Credence asked in a quiet voice.

“It will be. Go to sleep, my boy.” Percival said, patting Credence's shoulder.

“Mr. Graves--”

“Don't worry.” Percival interrupted him, pulling him close and kissing him on the top of his head. Credence went stiff under the gesture, his eyes going wide. Percival pulled away a bit too quickly, looking worried. He didn't apologize, however, and Credence didn't call him out on it. Instead, Percival told him once again, “Go to bed,” before he stepped away, heading towards his office. Credence slowly nodded, stepped towards his own bedroom. He paused in the doorway, watching as Graves vanished into his office with Tina. The door shut behind him and, with a click, was locked.

Credence waited by his bedroom door for a long moment. Chastity appeared across the hall not long after, and they shared a look. Together, they crept down the hall, sitting on either side of Percival's office door. The two of them pressed their ears to the door, meeting each other's eyes before they focused on the conversation inside.

“...Can't just take them like that!” Tina yelled, the click of her heels rapid as she paced the room. Actually, it sounded more like she was running laps around the room. “There are rules! Regulations! You—You _kidnapped_ them, Percival! If Mary Lou were to come home--”

“That's just it, Porpentina, she _didn't_ come home. She _never_ came home. You expected me to leave those kids in that house _alone_ for another three weeks?” Percival argued angrily, “I wasn't going to stand by and do nothing as my kids starved!”

“They aren't _your_ kids!” Porpentina shouted, “You're their _foster_ parent, you didn't adopt them!”

“Not yet, but I will,” Percival stated. Chastity looked up at Credence with wide eyes, and Credence could only stare back at her.

“No, you won't!” Porpentina huffed, “I have to report this, you know! You committed a crime! You _broke_ the _law_! Why, if I had my way, I would be taking these children away from you tonight!”

Chastity sucked in a panicked breath, then whispered anxiously, “She can't do that! Can she?”

“I won't let her,” Credence promised her, taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze.

“Get out.” Percival suddenly said, and Chastity and Credence gave each other a surprised look.

“Percival,” Tina tried to argue, but Percival had had enough.

“Get! Out!” He all but yelled. Chastity and Credence both had to scramble to their feet when the door suddenly swung open, and Tina marched out at a fast pace, face red and pinched with anger. She didn't he stop to say goodbye, she just strode straight for the front door, threw it open, and left.

From within his office, Percival took a deep breath, then called out, “Children.” He could almost feel the two of them tense, and when he turned, he found both of them standing there, staring at the ground ashamed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and mumbled, “I don't appreciate eavesdropping.”

Chastity and Credence glanced at one another, nervous, but Credence spoke up first, mumbling, “I'm sorry, sir... It was my idea.”

“I don't care whose idea it was,” Percival grumbled, approaching the teens. They grew more anxious the closer he got, and he could feel them tremble when he set his hands on their shoulders. “I understand I need to earn your trust. But please believe me when I say that I will never keep anything from you. All of you. But I need to believe that I will have my privacy when it comes to personal conversations.”

“Yes, sir,” They both agreed, and Percival gave their shoulders a brief squeeze before he let go of them.

“Go to bed. You have school in the morning.” He ordered, and both teens hummed out another 'yes, sir' before they crept down the halls. Percival watched as Chastity slipped into her bedroom first, and then Credence into his.

The second Credence stepped into his room, he felt a wave of excitement. Animagus was there, standing in the middle of his room, but when they met eyes, Credence knew he was here for business.

“Obscurus,” Animagus mumbled, looking nervous.

“Animagus.” Credence replied, locking his bedroom door, “What's the matter?”

“It's been three weeks.” Animagus began, crossing his arms and pacing the floor, “Grindelwald still hasn't shown up. I'm getting worried.”

Credence sighed, stepping around Animagus to sit on his bed, and he mumbled, “Why? It's good, isn't it? If he isn't appearing, we can relax...”

“I don't know. I don't think so. I mean,” Animagus stopped pacing long enough to face Credence and meet his eye, “Isn't there always a calm before the storm? What if he's planning something big? What if he lashes out when we least expect it?”

“Honestly... I thought him controlling me _was_ the storm...” Credence mumbled, more to himself than as an actual answer. At the pitying look he received from his partner, however, he knew he shouldn't have mentioned it at all.

“Obscurus...” Animagus began to say, but Credence immediately shook his head and turned his gaze to the floor.

“I don't want to talk about it. Please.” He begged, and Animagus only sighed in response, “As far as I'm concerned, Grindelwald is gone. He moved on. He tried to use me and he failed.”

“But what if he's not?” Animagus argued, genuine concern in his eyes, “Credence... I know you're... you're scared, but we need to stay vigilant. You haven't even gone patrolling the past three weeks.”

Credence scowled and curled up on himself some more, but Animagus refused to let him get away from this. He joined Credence on his bed, kneeling beside him, and he rested his hand upon his shoulder. In a gentle voice, he said, “Manhattan needs us, Credence. We need to be able to protect them, even when they act like they don't want us to.”

Clenching his jaw tightly, Credence gritted out, “If I go out there... if Obscurus goes back out, they'll form a mob. Have you seen the news? What people have been saying?” He looked up at Animagus, his heart racing in fear, “They're not just angry. They want an execution.”

“They don't. They're just scared. What Grindelwald has done before had been practically minor compared to what he had done to you.” Animagus argued, squeezing his shoulder, “They know it wasn't your fault. But they're not going to let go of their fear if we let Grindelwald walk.”

“Then what do you suggest? We don't know anything about him. We can't hunt him down, we have no way of tracking him...” Credence pointed out, obviously uncomfortable, “All we _can_ do is wait.”

Animagus sighed deeply, then gently cupped Credence's cheeks with his hands before he turned him towards himself so he could give him a soft kiss. Credence all but melted into the touch, the intimate gesture relaxing even during this stressful conversation, and when they pulled away, Animagus mumbled, “Fine. We'll wait. But we can still patrol the city while we wait, can't we?”

“Do we have to?” Credence complained, pulling Animagus for another kiss, just because he liked the sensation, liked it when he hummed pleasantly against his mouth.

“Yes, Credence,” Animagus replied with a smile, giving him one last kiss before he retreated from the bed, putting much-needed distance between them, “Grindelwald may be taking time off, but that doesn't mean we can.”

“Okay,” Credence sighed, getting up from the bed again, though at a lazy pace. Animagus smiled and crept towards Credence's bedroom window while Credence transformed into Obscurus.

He followed Animagus out of his window, and together they took to the streets, ready to defend Manhattan once again.

\-----------

Getting ready for school had become a very different experience from what Credence and his sisters were used to. Now that they were under Percival's care, they were roused awake by the smell of freshly cooked breakfast. Since the girls went to different schools that started earlier than Ilvermorny did, Percival would drive them there once they were ready, allowing Credence to enjoy an empty house for a little over a half hour before he had to start walking. He didn't mind it, really. He preferred to walk to school, anyways.

Percival's house was much closer to Ilvermorny than Mary Lou's, but it was a different route than he was used to. Now that he was closer, though, he usually met up with Theseus halfway there, and they would walk into school side-by-side. Today, however, Credence had left a little earlier, knowing he would just miss Theseus. He didn't really plan for it, though. He just wanted some time alone to think. Now that he actually had a parental figure in his life that _cared_ , it left Credence with little time to himself. It was great, he knew, but it was a little hard to adjust and left him craving for solitude more than usual.

The busy streets weren't much of a relief, however, and he found himself ducking into an alleyway away from the bustling city to gather himself. Leaning against the stained brick wall, Credence closed his eyes and focused on letting the sounds of the city fade away, muting to a distant buzz in the back of his mind. Slowly, he could breathe again, and his heart ceased its racing.

Stronger now, Credence opened his eyes and looked out at the people passing him by blindly. He watched them go, mildly curious about where they were going or what might be happening in their lives. He turned his back to them, wondering if there was a longer path he could take on his way to school that would have fewer people passing through.

The alleyway wasn't a dead end. It led to another, smaller walkway. Credence began to head for it but stopped when he heard coughing coming from behind a trash bin. Ah, so he hadn't been alone after all...

He intended to only glance at whoever was ducked behind the trash bins as he passed. He didn't really care to know who it was that shared this alley with him, just that he wasn't a potential threat, but who the man turned out to be was enough for Credence to do a double-take, then ultimately pause his retreat.

Sitting there, tucked behind the trash bins, sat a rugged older man with sweat-tangled platinum blond hair that was pushed haphazardly out of his face. His eyes were closed and his lips shut in a tight grimace, white teeth standing stark against paper-white skin that was covered in tacky blood, still bubbling from an alarming cut to the forehead. It ran thick down the sharp angles of his face, clumping in his sideburns and his thin mustache, and when Credence sucked in a sharp breath in shock, the man's eyes blinked open, locking right onto the boy standing with him in the alleyway.

“Move along, boy. Nothing to see here.” The man grunted, attempting to wipe his face clean with his hand, though it was similarly stained with blood—most likely his own. Credence bit his lip and began to obey, taking a few hesitant steps towards the mouth of the alleyway, but he couldn't help looking back at the man and thinking him awfully familiar.

Clearing his throat, Credence called from a few steps further, “A-are you okay, sir?”

The man laughed, a sharp, condescending sound from his nose, and he muttered sarcastically, “Absolutely peachy,” before he let out a hacking cough again, grimacing once more as his ribs protested from the sharp movement, “Don't suppose you'd be interested in what happened to this old fool.”

Credence glanced down the alleyway again, contemplating, and then he took a few steps towards the man, silently bidding for him to continue. The man looked him over once more, one grey eye and one deep brown, and he graced him with a slightly _less_ sarcastic smirk.

“In summary, I was caught off guard and robbed.” The man sighed, gesturing feebly to the cut on his forehead, then grimacing when the movement of his arm pulled at his ribs, “They got a few good punches in, I suppose, but what I'm more worried about is what they took from me.”

Credence remained silent, watching the man, listening to his story. The man glanced up at him, making sure he was still paying attention, and in a quiet, almost secretive voice, he whispered, “They stole my brooch.”

“Your brooch, sir?” Credence whispered, more confused as to what a brooch was than why they would take it. It must have been a valuable thing, that was for sure, but at the amused chuckle from the man, he wondered if even that were true.

“It's replaceable. That's what you're thinking, isn't it?” He asked, and Credence hesitantly nodded, “Certainly most brooches would be, but this one was... particularly special. A family heirloom, in fact. My own father passed it down to me on his deathbed, you see, and without it... why, I feel like I'm no longer allowed back home. Surely you would know the feeling, being given something remarkably valuable passed on from your father?”

Frowning, Credence shook his head. In a quiet voice, he admitted to the man, “I didn't know my parents. I couldn't imagine...”

“You don't know your own father?” The man asked, genuinely surprised, and when Credence shook his head again, he let out a soft hum, looking at him closely, “Interesting... I would have thought... No, it'd be impossible.”

“What is, sir?” Credence asked, his interest piqued. It wouldn't be possible for this man to know about Credence's family, right? The man gave Credence another secretive glance, one that made his heart flutter, but he shook his head again.

“It's just, you look so familiar. I was certain you were... well... I suppose it isn't important.” The man sighed, waving the topic away, much to Credence's disappointment, “No point in pondering the family tree if I am no longer sitting upon its branches...”

So he wanted the brooch back. That couldn't be hard, not for Obscurus, at least. Hoping that this wasn't a mistake, Credence asked, “Who took it from you?”

The man glanced his way, a cunning glint in his mismatched eyes, and replied all too innocently, “A couple of teenage thugs, I believe. You know how they are nowadays, sneak up right behind you and crack you over the head. Didn't stand a chance, unfortunately.”

“If I get your brooch back, will you tell me who I remind you of?” Credence asked, and this time, the man absolutely grinned. It was a monstrous look. Feral. Deadly. It made Credence's blood run cold as if he had just been served on a platter for this man to devour, but all of that vanished the moment he relaxed his smile.

“If you return to me my brooch, boy, I will _introduce_ the two of you.” The man promised, eyebrows lifting. Credence sucked in a sharp breath, spurred on by sheer determination to find out if this could lead to something, and he stood up straight.

“I'll seek you out when I find it. I'll return your brooch, I promise. What does it look like?” Credence asked quickly.

“Why, it's my family's coat of arms. Silver-coated metal, attached to a simple chain with a butterfly-shaped pin at the end.” He answered calmly, and Credence nodded only once.

“I'll return it to you.” Credence promised one last time, and the man grinned and bid him good luck.

“I suppose I will take a trip to the hospital. I look forward to seeing you again, boy.” He told him, allowing Credence to take his leave.

\-------

Another week passed uneventfully. Every day, Credence walked to school while Percival drove his sisters. Every night, Animagus would drag Obscurus out with him so they could patrol the streets properly. His heart wasn't entirely in it anymore, but it was his duty, and he knew he and Newt were the only ones able to fulfill it. Grindelwald had yet to make a move, but Animagus was still adamant about it.

Since there were no attacks, the memory of what Obscurus did under Grindelwald's influence faded in the public's mind and was nothing more than a terrible nightmare. It probably helped that Obscurus did all he could to not be seen, but it seemed like the public appearances were helping him gain the city's trust again. It was a victory, but a small one at that. It still felt like he and Animagus were nothing more than glorified cops at this point, stopping petty crimes when they came across them and alerting the authorities when they couldn't help.

Each night, Credence managed to slip back into his bedroom without alerting a single person. Animagus would sometimes accompany him, just for a little while, and then leave for his own home. They would lay in his bed and whisper to each other under the sheets, enjoying the intimacy after a long, uneventful and yet somehow stressful night.

They had grown so used to this pattern, this way of comforting one another in the dim light of Credence's bedroom, that one night, time slipped away from them. They were so comfortable, wrapped up in one another's arms and enjoying the slow, gentle slide of wandering hands coaxing one another into a state of half-arousal and half-awakeness that the first rays of sunlight spilling into Credence's window failed to grab their attention.

It wasn't until Credence's bedroom door swung open did the young men pull away from each other and look up, eyes wide and hearts still. Percival had caught them, and the casual, sleeping smile he had been wearing fell into a wide-eyed stare of disbelief.

“ _Credence_ \--!” He choked out, only to stop and call out down the hall for the girls to brush their teeth. That taken care of, Percival stepped into Credence's bedroom and all but slammed the door shut.

“M-Mr. Graves--” Credence blurted out, scrambling out of the bed to try and stop the obviously enraged man, but Percival merely knocked the teen aside and instead went straight for Newt, grabbing him by the front of his t-shirt and hoisting him off the mattress.

“Animagus?!” He recalled in disbelief, remembering the teen's face from the day Obscurus had been compromised and nearly tore all of Manhattan apart. Newt, however, had no clue who Mr. Graves was, and went as white as a sheet when his hero alter-ego was announced. “What are you two doing?!”

Both boys began to talk at once, stuttering over one another in a panicked and desperate attempt to put together a plausible story. Percival entertained it for all but three seconds before he yelled over them, “Enough!” and the boys clenched their jaws shut, sharing a worried glance before they turned back to the man towering over them.

“Are you two insane?” Percival hissed between clenched teeth, obviously trying not to be loud enough for the girls to hear, but still so upset that controlling the volume of his voice was legitimately difficult, “One rule, there was just _one rule!”_

“Does it really matter?” Credence argued back while Newt's head twisted back and forth between the two of them, trying to get to the same page, “We've known for more than a month and nothing has happened!”

“For now, perhaps, but nothing good ever comes from this!” Percival squeezed his hands into fists, his face turning positively red with rage, and he asked in a tight voice, “Why would you reveal yourselves to each other?!”

Instantly, Newt rebutted with an embarrassed, “We haven't done anything like that! We were just talking!”

“What? No--!” Percival huffed, clarifying in an annoyed tone, “Your identities! I specifically told you, never give away your true identity, and this is what you two do? Not only break this one simple rule but _mess around_ together, too?! You're just asking for trouble!”

Newt blinked in surprise, finally catching up to the actual conversation, and he blurted out, “The Director?” He turned to Credence, then, and asked hysterically, “Your foster parent is _The Director_?!”

“I _told_ you it was weird,” Credence muttered, feeling put on the spot.

“It doesn't matter who I am! What matters is that you two were _not_ supposed to know who you were! You were _never_ supposed to meet!” Percival declared, gaining control over the conversation once again. Then, with a look of grim determination, he announced, “This cannot continue.”

“What?!” Newt and Credence both shouted, looking just as shocked as they were indignant.

“You can't do that!” Newt argued loudly, his usual boyish charm all but replaced with sheer upset, “What does it even matter if we're dating? You can't force us to break up!”

“You don't understand,” Percival said in an ominous tone, “You're both weighted down by a responsibility to the city. That responsibility cannot be tarnished by some misplaced crush! If you continue this, you'll only be putting Manhattan at risk!”

“We've been doing just fine protecting Manhattan _and_ being together, thank you very much!” Newt fought back while Credence just shrunk in on himself, never comfortable with being in an argument with an adult, especially one who was supposed to be his parental figure.

“Then what will happen when you break up?” Percival pressed, getting up close and personal with Newt, who refused to back down.

“We won't.” He declared.

“You will. And then you'll resent each other for your mistake of a relationship, and you'll refuse to work together.” Percival growled, prodding Newt painfully in the chest as he spoke, “Then who will fight for Manhattan? Then who will fight Grindelwald when he resurfaces?”

“We will because we're not going to break up!” Newt stayed strong, shoving Percival's hand away before he looked at Credence, “We're _not_ breaking up, tell him!”

Credence sucked in a sharp breath, panicked. He didn't want to say the wrong thing. He didn't want Percival to get angry. If Percival didn't want him anymore... didn't want his _sisters_ anymore, there would be no reason for him to keep them. But he didn't want to lose Newt either. The youngest Scamander was probably the second best thing that happened to him in his teenage life, he didn't want it to end so quickly.

He stared at Newt, wide-eyed, hoping that a sliver of his thoughts would somehow transfer between them. Both Percival and Newt waited for some sort of answer, waited for him to choose a side, but when nothing but silence came, they decided to assume.

“He wouldn't break up with me,” Newt declared, facing Percival again, attempting to look unshaken, though the doubt in his eyes was all too obvious.

“He wouldn't even stand up for you,” Percival spat, looking cruelly victorious with a smirk on his lips, “Your crush is weak and fleeting. This _thing_ you have for each other is just a phase. Break it off before it gets worse.”

With a huff, Newt shoved past Percival and exited Credence room, storming through the house and leaving out the front door. Distantly, Credence could hear Modesty called after Newt in confusion, but nothing else followed. Percival turned his gaze on Credence, and Credence immediately ducked his head down. Frowning, Percival took a hesitant step forward, unsure what to do now.

“Credence... this is for your own good. I know he's your ally, but you can't trust _anyone_ with this.” Percival tried to explain, his voice soft, but Credence was still tense and silent, “You're both young. There are plenty of men to choose from... Ones who won't eventually turn on you. I know you think you like him, but you don't. You can't.”

Credence held his breath for a long moment, fighting back the words that threatened to burst from his lips, the rage that was fueling them. He was scared to say a thing, though, and that's what ultimately kept him silent. That, and the years of mentally battling with Mary Lou that had beaten him into a state of submission when it came to situations like this.

Deciding that the only way out of this unscathed was by diversion, so he grabbed the first pair of jeans he spotted and his sweater, then announced under his breath that he was going to walk the girls to school that day. He ducked his head again when Percival called after him, but he didn't allow himself to stop. He could bear just that much disobedience. He could bear just that much.

Getting the girls' things together and out the door was much easier than Credence hoped, evading Percival completely. The walk to school was quiet but fast-paced. Since they had been used to Percival driving them, they had started waking up at a later hour, which meant they didn't have the same amount of time to make it to class as before. Still, somehow they managed to get Modesty to school on time, and that was all that mattered to the older Barebone children.

After leaving the elementary school, Chastity and Credence were left to walk to Chastity's high school together, though it was but a few blocks away. It wouldn't be more than ten minutes—not that it would make much of a difference, Chastity was already late by twenty minutes. However, they were no longer in a rush, and so their pace was languid and relaxed.

The gentle noises of the morning creatures being roused awake was soothing as silence settled comfortably between them. Credence was looking across the street at a glittering building, its glass walls reflecting the sky like a mirror. He could feel Chastity's skirt brush against his knuckles when the breeze picked up, and then her hand slipped into his. He held it for a moment, giving her a soft squeeze, then let it slip away when she pulled back.

“So,” Chastity said suddenly, and Credence turned his head to look at her, his attention freely given, “Newt slept over?”

Credence's feet knocked into one another, nearly sending the older boy sprawling flat on his face. He managed to catch himself after a heart-stopping moment, though, and just managed to save face by ducking down and pretending like his shoe had been untied. Chastity stopped walking as well, watching him closely, waiting for his answer. Credence didn't really know what she expected him to say, so he merely answered truthfully.

“Sort of...”

“Sort of.” Chastity echoed, a dubious tone in her voice, and she mentioned, “I don't remember seeing him come over the night before.”

“He, erm...” Credence cleared his throat, then stood back up when his shoe had been retied twice. He kept his eyes on the floor as he continued forward this time, but he could still see Chastity's worn black boots keeping pace with him on his left. “He arrived a while after you and Modesty went to bed.”

“Did he now?” Chastity pressed, almost condescending now, and Credence cursed her for being so clever. Really, if any Barebone was meant to go to Ilvermorny, it would be Chastity. He hoped she would let it go, just forget the topic completely and act like she didn't just discover that her brother was gay. Especially since she had just exploded at Percival just last week for being the same. Chastity, however, didn't seem keen on backing down.

“Mr. Graves seemed awfully mad to see you two together. Is there a reason why?” Chastity asked next, and Credence, for a moment, almost wished that Chastity was correct with what she was implying.

Honestly, Credence answered, “He doesn't think Newt and I should know each other. He doesn't think we should be... friends.”

“Wait, what?” Chastity blurted, much less condescending than before. The two of them stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, looking at one another, Credence with a tinge of exhaustion and Chastity with a burning flame of fury, “Why is that _his_ business?”

“He's out foster parent...” Credence mumbled, crossing his arms, but that wasn't enough for his sister.

“So he thinks he can just tell you who to be... _friends_ with because he's fostering us?” Chastity argued, turning a little pink, “Isn't he... you know...?”

Frowning, Credence mumbled, “It isn't because of _that_. He thinks that... well...” He sighed dramatically, then mumbled, “You know about our after school activities,” He mentioned, gesturing towards where his Miraculous sat tucked underneath his shirt, “Well, Mr. Graves knows about them, too. He doesn't think we should be 'friends' because of this.”

Chastity huffed, then promptly crossed her arms and jutted her nose into the air, declaring with an air of disappointment, “Credence Barebone, you self-sacrificing _idiot!_ ”

Credence blinked up at his sister in shock, “What?”

“How many times have you gone to bed hungry just so Modesty and I would have a lunch tomorrow?” Chastity asked, and Credence flushed in guilt, “How many times have you begged for Mom's forgiveness so that Modesty and I would get away with our mistakes? You let me bully you when we were younger so that _I_ would be the favorite! And now, when you finally have a... a...” She blushed brighter, and forced the word out, “a _boyfriend_ , you're going to just let some stranger tell you you're not allowed this?”

“It's his only rule, Chastity. If I break it, who knows what might happen? He might throw us out on the street!” Credence argued, but Chastity threw her hands into the air, not wanting to hear a second of it.

“Credence, he's _not_ our _dad._ ” She declared, setting her hands on Credence's arms, squeezing them gently, “And if he was, he would have put your happiness before his own. He can't tell you who you can or can't be with... and neither can I. Or anyone else, for that matter.” She pulled away, then looking suddenly uncomfortable, and she mentioned, “But I would appreciate _telling_ me next time you have him over. I... I don't want to walk into something I'm not supposed to see.”

Credence immediately laughed, glowing an innocent pink, and he mumbled, “I promise you, you won't.” With a gentle smile, Credence sought out Chastity's hands, then pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you,” He whispered into her hair, closing his eyes as he enjoyed her warmth against him, energizing him as if he had just woken up from a long slumber.

“I love you, Credence,” Chastity whispered to him, clutching him tight around his back, “If he makes you happy, don't let anyone take him away from you. Okay?”

“Okay.” Credence agreed with a hum.

“Promise?” Chastity asked, pulling away to look her brother in the eye, completely serious, even if she didn't really understand it.

Credence smiled down at her, meeting her gaze, and nodded.

“Good.” Chastity sighed, pulling away further now and clutching the straps to her backpack, “You should head to school now or else you'll be late, too.”

“Will you be okay?” Credence asked, worried, but Chastity only smiled at him, already taking off down the sidewalk. It was a silly question, he knew, but he would always worry about his sisters. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if they were ever taken from him...

Turning towards Ilvermorny, Credence realized that he wouldn't even know what to do if _Newt_ was ever taken from him. Remembering that morning made his stomach churn uncomfortably. Newt had looked at him, asked if he would break up with him, and Credence didn't say a thing. He felt terrible, truly. He could only imagine what Newt thought of him.

Pulling out his phone, Credence began a new text to Newt, one he typed out, erased, and retyped all the way to school. He read it over once, three times, six, and each time he worried that it sounded too dull, too dramatic, too impassive. He wanted to be genuine and caring and apologetic, but he instead came across as begging and grovelling and pitiful. The day breezed by with the message sitting in his drafts, even all the way through Professor Graves' class, though the two of them were avoiding each other as best as a student and teacher could. He sat through his class restlessly, feet tapping away as he mentally wrote and rewrote the text he wanted to send to Newt. His anxiety was so apparent that even Theseus was casting him odd looks, and towards the end of the day, he finally brought it up.

“Everything okay?” Theseus asked in a whisper, eyeing Credence warily as the man flinched and frowned in embarrassment.

“Fine,” Credence replied curtly, ducking his head, “Lot on my mind.”

He was skirting around the actual issue, Theseus knew, but he decided to just let it go. If it were important, Theseus could only hope that Credence would trust him enough to bring it up without prompting. And Theseus would have to trust Credence enough to give him the chance.

But the school day ended without another word from Credence, and they parted ways on their walk home. Credence retreated to his bedroom with his cell phone in hand, still pondering the perfect text to send to Newt, while Theseus stepped into his house to find said man sat on the couch, curled up in the corner with a bowl of marshmallows on his lap and _My Cat From Hell_ playing on the television. Theseus immediately cringed, already able to tell something was up, especially when he noticed Newt was on the first season.

Approaching Newt from behind the couch, Theseus propped his elbows on the back of it and asked, “Bad day?”'

Newt didn't grant him a verbal response. Instead, he grabbed a handful of marshmallows and stuffed them into his mouth, wallowing in his sugary comfort. Theseus frowned and ruffled Newt's hair, then asked, “Want to talk about it?”

What came after was hilarious if it wasn't also pitiful. Newt began to chatter off what had him so upset, with hand movements and expressive gestures, but his mouth was still chock full of marshmallows that had him sounding like he was trying an extreme version of Chubby Bunny. Theseus didn't have the heart to interrupt him at first, his brows furrowed as he tried to pick up what he could, but when Newt cast him a hopelessly pleading look, Theseus could only grimace.

“I only got half of that, to be honest.” He mentioned, and Newt threw his head back with an annoyed groan before he proceeded to angrily chew the marshmallows into a manageable clump and painfully gulp them down.

“I don't know what to do, Thees!” Newt exclaimed, first and foremost, “I thought everything was going well and that it would all work out in the end, but now I don't know! I mean, I _really_ like him, Theseus, but I don't think he... likes _me_ the same way.”

“Who?” Theseus asked, stepping around the couch to sit beside his brother, “Your Astrology classmate you have a crush on?”

Newt huffed, an annoyed look crossing his face, but he only nodded and mumbled, “We... we had something going, Thees. And then something happened and...” He sighed, annoyance turning into sorrow, and he pulled his knees to his chest, “I think he's going to break up with me...”

“What?” Theseus blurted, first surprised that Newt was actually dating someone, and then upset that that someone was putting his little brother in this funk, “Why would he do something like that?”

Newt sighed again and dropped his head to his knees, mumbling out, “His... dad caught us together...”

Theseus grimaced just as Newt began to whine, and then he continued angrily, “And the jerk didn't even do anything while his dad yelled at me! I was trying to stick up for us and he was just...” He huffed, anger seeping out quickly and turning into self-pity, and he grumbled, “But I guess his dad is kind of scary... And he's really shy...” He whined again, collapsing against Theseus' shoulder, and he cried, “I don't know what to do... I don't want to break up. I really, _really_ like him...”

“Have you talked to him at all?” Theseus asked, wrapping an arm around Newt's shoulder and offering him a supportive squeeze, “Call him?”

“But what if he doesn't want to talk? What if I call and he just breaks up with me then?” Newt whimpered, hugging the bowl of marshmallows to his chest, “I want to talk to him about it... but I don't want him to break up with me... so I want to just avoid him so he can't...”

“That's not going to fix anything, Newt.” Theseus sighed, smiling fondly, “Besides, he didn't break up with you right then and there, right? If he really wanted to, he would have texted you at least, right?”

“He would have texted me if he _didn't_ want to.” Newt huffed irritably, popping another marshmallow into his mouth. Theseus made a face, then took the bowl away and set it aside, despite Newt's whining complaints. Newt was a mess already, he didn't need a sugar rush to make him even worse.

“You can't just sit here and worry about the what if's and the maybe's. If you really like him and he really likes you, then it'll work out. Who knows, maybe he spent all day talking to his dad about it, trying to get him to understand. Maybe he _is_ sticking up for you.” Theseus advised, and Newt slowly relaxed from his sulking position.

“You really think so?” He asked, peering up at Theseus with a vulnerable look in his eyes, and Theseus only smiled and nodded.

“No one would break up with you just because their dad caught you two.” Theseus reassured him, squeezing Newt tight, “You're a Scamander. No one breaks a Scamander's heart!”

Newt laughed a little, then flinched when his cell phone buzzed with a new text message. He held it up just long enough to see it was from Credence before Theseus let out a cry and snatched it from his grip.

“This has to be him!” Theseus announced, leaping up from the couch while Newt shouted after him.

“Give it back! Don't read it!” Newt begged, but Theseus was nothing if not a _great_ older brother, and he proceeded to open the text message and read it aloud.

“Let's see exactly what Mr. Three Heart Emoji has to say!” Theseus teased in a sing-song voice, using the couch as a wall between himself and Newt as the younger Scamander tried to snatch his phone back, “'Newt, I'm sorry--'” Theseus clicked his tongue and let out a sickeningly sweet “Aww, how heartfelt!” before continuing, “'Everything I type isn't good enough. Just know you mean the world to me--' The _world,_ Newt! '--and that I would never let anyone come between us, not Grindelwald, not Mr. Graves.'”

Finally, Theseus stopped in his tracks, amusement turning to sheer confusion, and he blurted out a concerned, “Mr. Graves?” Before Newt crashed right into him, knocking him over and snatching the phone back.

“Ah ha!” Newt exclaimed victoriously, holding his phone out of arm's reach as he sat on his brother. Theseus huffed and merely shoved Newt over, letting his little brother keep his phone as they got to their feet.

“You're dating Mr. Graves' son?” Theseus asked, eyebrows raised high, and Newt went bright pink. “I didn't even know he had a son!”

“H-He's a foster kid,” Newt explained briefly before shaking his head and interrupting himself with a sharp, “And it's none of your business who I date, anyways!”

“Wait, come on! You _have_ to tell me who it is now!” Theseus begged, but Newt crossed his arms and tossed his nose into the air, unwavering.

“Absolutely not. If I tell you, you'll only ask _more_ questions.” Newt declared, and Theseus' eyes practically sparkled in curiosity.

“Should I be worried? Is this kid some delinquent or something?” Theseus pressed, and Newt immediately snorted.

“No! He's the nicest, most gentle man I've ever met,” He complimented, blushing innocently as he thought of his boyfriend. He glanced down at his phone, recalling the words Theseus read out to him, and he smiled even more before saying, “And _I'm_ his _world_.”

“Tell me who it is!” Theseus begged once again, clasping his hands together in a pleading gesture, “I won't say a word! I won't ask anything else! Just tell me who, you're killing me here!”

Sighing loudly, Newt questioned, “If I tell you, you _swear_ you'll drop it?”

“Absolutely!”

Newt eyed his brother doubtfully, regarding his emphatic expression, and with one last sigh, Newt blushed red and sniffed.

“I think you'd be more familiar with the name... Obscurus.” He mentioned, and Theseus' jaw practically broke through the floor with how fast it fell.

“Ob—Obscurus? You're _dating_ Obscurus?!” Theseus questioned, but Newt was already retreating to his bedroom, keeping his lips sealed shut tight, “Newt! Newton, get back here! You're _dating Obscurus?!_ Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, you answer me now!”

Newt sighed when he shut himself into his bedroom, a bright smile tugging at his lips even as he fought it down, and he looked at the text message Credence sent to him. Theseus had read it word for word, but he had stopped after the bit about Mr. Graves. There was still text left, so Newt read it silently to himself.

' _I can't believe I let you leave without saying a single word. Please come see me tonight. Let me make it right again.'_

 


	19. Chapter 18: Animagus Very Nearly Gets a Taste (AKA the chapter where they almost do it)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mind the rating!
> 
> Nothing explicit. Very much a 'heavy petting' sort of thing at the beginning. Quickly cools off, though. Again, let me know if you guys would mind if this got into the explicit sort of area?
> 
> Also, cut this one sorta short (because I want to make it seem like there's more story than there actually is before we get to the next big part lol)

They met each other on the roof top of the city library. Obscurus had arrived first, but he didn't wait long before Animagus flew in, gliding in circles around Credence's body before he popped back into his human form.

“Animagus, I--” Obscurus began to apologize, but Animagus grabbed him by his cheeks with both hands and pulled him into a deep kiss. Obscurus grunted against his lips, but he had been pleasantly surprised. He was expecting Newt to be upset, maybe standoffish, not passionate. And boy, was he _passionate_.

Obscurus gasped when his back hit the door leading down into the building, blushing bright red as it shuttered under their weight, then groaned in the back of his throat as Animagus continued to kiss and nibble at his lips. Obscurus felt himself tremble under Animagus' hands as they vanished from his face and reappeared at his waistline, finding the junction between shirt and pants so he could stroke the skin of his hipbones.

Obscurus thought for a moment that he was going to vibrate right out of his skin. His heart was pounding and he felt flushed, and every stroke of Animagus' fingers and swipe of his tongue had him reaching a new level of exhilaration--although he didn't exactly know how to act on it.

“Newt,” He gasped, turning his head to the side to try and get a word in, but Animagus merely moved on to Obscurus' neck, teeth scraping along his racing pulse point, sending sparks of pleasure through his veins. Obscurus clutched onto Animagus' arms, just above his elbows, and he jolted when Animagus slotted their bodies together, leaving not even a millimeter of space between them from chest to knee.

It almost felt like his mind turned itself off and then back on again, the flash of pleasure blinding him for but a moment, but it was enough to spur Obscurus into action. Mustering up all the strength he could, Obscurus shoved Animagus back, holding him out at arm's length, and sputtered, “I-I haven't even ap-apologized!”

Animagus, who had looked as if Obscurus had just snatched the world from him the moment he was pushed away, laughed delightedly and tugged his hands from his arms. Instead, he laced their fingers together, brought his hands up to kiss the knuckles, and replied, “You texted me, remember?”

Obscurus' arms relaxed, allowing Animagus to once again crowd him against the metal door, and he placed a slow, intimate kiss upon his lips before breathing out, “You said I meant the world to you...”

“I did...” Obscurus confirmed, closing his eyes when Animagus kissed him again, letting it drag out and grow heated. Animagus' hands were back on his body, sliding under his shirt and over his flat stomach, playing with the light dusting of hair around his pecs. Obscurus shuddered and sighed at the gentle petting, breaking the kiss only to breathe before he dove in for more.

When Animagus' hands started moving south, Credence felt his body turn rigid all over, and he pulled away once again to give the man a wide-eyed stare. Animagus merely smiled, though, and he whispered, “Let me show you how much you mean to me?”

“I—I...” Credence gasped out, unable to get the words out, and then he gasped aloud when Animagus all but dropped onto his knees before him. “Newt...”

“It's okay,” Newt reassured him, the touch of sincerity in his voice coming straight from the boy under the mask, and he delivered a reassuring kiss to Obscurus' stomach before his fingers dipped below Obscurus' waistband.

Obscurus closed his eyes tight and dropped his head back, the metal door behind him rattling once again. He was so nervous and this situation was so _new_ , but the burning under his skin and the frantic thundering pulse throbbing through his entire body were spurring him on, making him pray for God's forgiveness because he knew that there was nothing in the world that he would rather experience. The moment he felt the brush of cold air, Credence opened his eyes and stared into the night sky, holding his breath until his lungs burned and his eyes watered.

A flicker of movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, however. His head twisted towards it, and all the heat and thrill and pleasure that had been overtaking his mind leeched out in mere seconds.

“Animagus,” He said sternly, and he felt the man pull away. Lifting a hand, Obscurus pointed towards the fluttering creature as it passed by at a distance, and he felt the grip on his pants tighten the moment Animagus caught sight of it.

It was an innocent enough scene to anyone else. Just a beautiful midnight-black butterfly twittering about in the dark, almost invisible against the night sky. To anyone else, the iridescent purple haze that seemed to trail behind it was a mere illusion, a trick of the eye. But to the two heroes watching it, they knew with a sick feeling in the pits of their stomachs that it was no normal insect. It was a tool borne of malice with nothing but ill intent.

“What do we do?” Animagus whispered, getting back to his feet after straightening out Obscurus' clothes. Obscurus, meanwhile, seemed hesitant. They hadn't fought Grindelwald in so long. He legitimately thought the man had moved on, maybe left for a new city to terrorize, but now that he knew he was still around, he wasn't sure how confident he was going to be in battle.

But if he was still in Manhattan, that meant Obscurus and Animagus would need to protect the city. If that meant choking out the evil at its source, then so be it.

“We follow it,” He decided, readjusting his pants for a brief moment before he strode towards the edge of the building, Animagus right behind him, “We find out where it's headed. With any luck, it will lead us straight to Grindelwald.”

A hand on his arm brought his attention back to Animagus, who had a concerned look on his face. Hesitantly, Animagus asked, “Are you sure about this?” It seemed Obscurus wasn't the only one hoping that Grindelwald was no longer around. Obscurus clenched his jaw tight, then forced a smile on and took Animagus' hand.

“Absolutely.” He told him, squeezing his hand, “Manhattan needs us to do this. And if it doesn't lead to Grindelwald, then we can at least take care of the next victim before it gets out of hand.”

Animagus pressed his lips into a line, then gave him a firm nod before he turned back to the butterfly, slowly gaining distance from the two heroes. “We should keep up, then.” He declared, transforming into a golden-brown hawk-moth and fluttering along after it. Credence let out a breath, wondering distantly if it wouldn't be inappropriate to try to continue what they had been doing after this mess was sorted out, but he shook it out of his mind. He needed to focus, especially if Grindelwald was on the rise again.

Vanishing in a cloud of smoke, Obscurus tumbled through the air after the butterflies, hoping that whatever it was leading to, Obscurus would be able to handle it.

Minutes after they began to follow the butterfly, the little creature began to pick up speed, as if realizing it was being followed. Its glittering black wings were working overtime as it zipped around buildings and dove down into the streets. They nearly lost it in the night crowd as it bobbed in and out of the sidewalk. They very well could have had Animagus not caught sight of the little thing dipping between two buildings and zipped after it. Obscurus was close behind, bowling a few pedestrians over as he raced after them, and though he heard them shout after him, he merely continued onward.

Picking up speed, the butterfly slipped through a chain-link fence. Animagus managed to squeeze his way through, and Obscurus merely tore a large hole through it as he rushed past. The butterfly began to lose speed, and the two heroes were just about to catch up to it when it vanished into a burst of white, ethereal light.

Obscurus reformed just as Animagus did, and they looked up and down the alleyway, checked the walls, checked the trash bins, looked everywhere for any sign as to where the Imperius went.

“It just disappeared...” Animagus whispered, setting down the trash lid he was holding. Obscurus turned to look at him, disappointed, but it didn't last long. Further down the alleyway, something was kicked over, clattering loudly in the narrow space. Animagus and Obscurus turned towards it, alarmed, then began to creep towards its source.

The closer they got, the louder a voice became. It was soft, curious, barely audible even in the echoic alleyway. A shadow standing in the mouth of the alleyway appeared from the darkness, hands clasped before them and shoulders hunched secretively around them. Obscurus glanced once at Animagus, who quietly transformed into a coconut-crab-sized spider, covered in thick black fur and sporting two fat fangs under eight menacing iridescent eyes. Obscurus himself melted into a puddle of black, creeping along the walls of the alleyway and securing a spot just above the form, doing his best to sneak around so they could trap them right in the middle.

Animagus hissed loudly, startling their target further from the shadows with a yelp. Obscurus reformed right behind him, shoving him back into the alleyway and towards Animagus with a strong arm, and the person tumbled to the ground, landing hard on their back and dropping the item he had been holding.

The boy—and it truly was just a boy, no older than fourteen—met Animagus' many eyes, then proceeded to shout. Animagus quickly reformed back into his human form, completely prepared to apologize, but Obscurus acted faster. He stepped forward with two long strides, grabbed the boy by the collar of his shirt, and shoved him into the wall of the alley, pinning him there with a menacing scowl.

“Who are you?” He questioned angrily, not even giving him a moment to answer before he demanded, “Where is he? Where is Grindelwald?!”

“Cr-c—Obscurus, _stop_ , it's just a kid!” Animagus stammered out, getting to his feet and attempting to peel the irritated hero from the child, but Obscurus didn't relent. He merely faded his arm into shadow which consequently sent Animagus stumbling backwards. Reforming his arm, Obscurus grabbed the kid once more and shoved him back into the wall, hoping to knock an answer out of him one way or another.

“You _have_ to know where he is! The Imperius led to _you_!” Obscurus shouted, not even phased when the boy began to cry. “Spit it out!”

“Obscurus!” Animagus yelled again, and when the hero turned to look at him, he merely held out his hand, “He's not Grindelwald. He's just some pickpocket.”

“What?” Obscurus whispered, barely even a breath from his lips, and he let go of the kid completely to see exactly what Animagus was holding. Sitting there in his palm, glinting in the dimly lit street lamp across the way, was a silver brooch with a chain hanging at the end of it, adorned with a little butterfly cut from an opalescent white stone the size of his fingernail. Slowly, Obscurus held out his own hand, allowing Animagus to deposit the brooch and pin into his palm for closer inspection. He stood there, mouth hanging open dumbly, and Animagus merely gave him a look before he stepped around Obscurus to make sure the kid was alright.

“Hush, it's okay, now. Mummy's here,” Animagus whispered, kneeling in the alleyway and pulling the child into his arms, gently rocking him until the boy was soothed, “We didn't mean to scare you. Did we, Obscurus?”

The man in question sucked in a slow breath, squeezing his fist shut over the brooch and pin, then silently shook his head no. Animagus merely hummed, then said to the child, “We just got a little overexcited. We were tracking Grindelwald—do you know who that is?”

“Y-yeah,” The boy responded in a watery voice. Obscurus squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassment and shame flaring in his chest like a disease. He turned and marched off deeper into the alleyway, horrified with himself and just as angry. Distantly, Obscurus could hear Animagus still talking to the boy. He sent the child off with a handful of sweets and dollar bills before he approached Obscurus, slow and obvious in his approach.

When he was close enough, Obscurus whispered, “I don't know what came over me...” He could feel Animagus standing behind him, could hear his soft breathing, feel his eyes weighing on his back, “I just.... _really_ thought we were going to find him. I thought we were going to end this.” Squeezing the brooch and pin in his fist, Obscurus' shoulders slumped, and he transformed back into Credence, becoming just as vulnerable and weak as he felt. Turning, he sought out Animagus' body, wrapping his arms around the man and hiding his face in the crook of his neck. “I could have hurt him... He was just a kid...”

With a slow sigh, Animagus cradled Credence's head with his hands, pressing his cheek to his temple, and then his lips, before he returned to being Newt. Still holding his partner, he said reassuringly, “I know... I wanted it to be him, too.”

Shuddering, Credence mumbled, “I'm just so tired, Newt... I... I don't want to do this anymore...”

“I understand,” Newt replied carefully, holding Credence even tighter and closing his own eyes, “You don't have to.”

“But I do,” Credence argued, slipping away from Newt's grip so he could look into his eyes, “Just like you do. If we don't protect Manhattan from Grindelwald, then who will? I can't just abandon this. I can't abandon _you_.”

“You won't be abandoning us, Credence,” Newt sighed, cupping Credence's cheek and stroking his thumb against the corner of his lip. With a small smile, he said, “You have done so much for Manhattan already. You've been through a lot for one person. You were possessed by the Imperius and _fought_ it, Credence... You're the strongest, most brave man I've ever met, but nobody is impervious.”

Pulling Credence closer until he could kiss him, Newt whispered, “I... _deeply_ admire you, Credence.” He looked into Credence's eyes, seeing a vulnerability there, an ever-present doubt, so he said it again, “ _Deeply._ If I'm your world, then you're the breath in my lungs,” At that, Credence huffed, an innocent sort of embarrassed amusement gracing his features, and Newt couldn't help but to kiss that smile. “It won't be forever, Credence. You don't have to do this for the rest of your life with me. But if you help me find Grindelwald... if you help me bring him to justice, we can put the Miraculouses away and _never_ have to touch them again.”

“It could take years,” Credence mumbled, and Newt brushed their noses together with a smile.

“Or it could be next week, and this night will be nothing more than a bad memory years from now.” He mentioned, gazing into his eyes, “You don't have to be strong by yourself anymore, Credence. You have me.” And then, with a shy smile, he whispered, “You've always had me...”

Relaxing, Credence covered Newt's hand with his own, turning his head so he could kiss the inside of his wrist. “Not like this.” He mumbled against his skin, feeling the man trembling beneath his lips.

“It's better, I hope?” Newt ventured, and this time, Credence snorted, then kissed his wrist again.

“Much.” He confirmed, peering back at his boyfriend. A thrill shot through his stomach, briefly recalling the sight of Animagus on his knees before him, but it was a far too inappropriate thought for this situation. Instead of bringing it up, asking Newt if they could think about moving forward one day, Credence instead asked, “Can I walk you home?”

Smiling, Newt linked their fingers together and mumbled, “I'd like that.”

 


	20. Chapter 19: The Honey and the Hatchet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT, HOOOOO!
> 
> Meh, just amateur bjs and handies really.  
> P much, if you're uninterested, stop reading when they go back to Newt's place!
> 
> :D:D:D

Credence returned home before the sun came up. He slipped into his bedroom in a plume of smoke, expecting the house to be quiet as the others slept. Instead, he came face-to-face with Percival, who was sitting up on Credence's bed, his copy of _Hamlet_ in hand, and a tired dullness in his eyes. Credence reformed into Obscurus just as Percival looked up, and he turned towards the window to shut it, avoiding the man's gaze.

“Where were you?” Percival asked quietly, though the intensity in his tone was enough to make Credence sweat.

“Working.” Credence answered briskly, his costume melting away until it was only Credence standing there in all of his normal glory.

“With Animagus?” Percival inquired, and Credence glanced at him from over his shoulder before he turned away again.

“Of course.” He answered, irritated, “He _is_ my partner, after all.”

Percival didn't respond immediately. He merely stared Credence down, burning judgmental holes into his back. Credence stood there stiffly, hands on the windowsill and eyes squeezed shut. Behind him, he could hear Percival shift on the bed.

“It's of absolute importance that this _thing_ you have with him doesn't continue, Credence,” Percival reminded him, and Credence clenched his jaw tight, keeping himself from responding, “The more you two know about each other, the more danger you put yourselves in. If Grindelwald knew about this, he could easily use Animagus to manipulate you.”

Credence huffed, ducking his head, and he tried even harder to keep from speaking up. He didn't want to regret doing anything, especially not when it concerned his foster parent. Still, Percival was definitely pushing it, and Chastity's advice kept echoing in his head over and over.

“You can't trust anyone with this life, Credence,” Percival spoke wisely.

' _Don't let anyone take him away from you,_ ' Chastity whispered in his mind.

“As heroes, we have to put Manhattan before ourselves. We can't risk having baggage weighing us down,” Percival explained.

' _He can't tell you who you can or can't be with,_ ' Chastity reminded him. Credence tried to cover his ears, but his hands were shaking and clammy.

“Animagus doesn't even know you, Credence! He's only ever known Obscurus. He _only_ loves Obscurus. Don't make the same mistake I made!” Percival all but begged.

 _'You deserve him.'_ Said her voice in the back of his head, but Credence didn't want to hear it.

But behind his closed eyelids, Credence could see Newt smiling at him, could feel his hands running over his torso and stomach. Even as Animagus, Credence knew he loved this boy, knew there was no difference between the two, not really. He could taste his lips on his own, could hear his joyful laughter, could feel his awkward endearments pulsing through his veins.

And then, in his mind, he saw Newt kneeling before him, kissing his stomach and whispering that it was okay, that he just wanted to show him how much Credence meant to him, that he _deeply_ adored him. Credence's eyes opened once again.

“I think I love him.” He whispered, but it silenced the room as if he had screamed it aloud. Percival's breath even caught in his throat, and that gave him the strength to turn and regard the older man. “And I th-think he loves me too.”

“We don't have the capacity for love,” Percival spat, looking almost offended as if Credence had just insulted him personally with his declaration. Credence, however, remained resolute.

“Perhaps you don't. And perhaps the mistakes you made were because of it. But I love Newt and I love Animagus, and _neither_ of us are   _you_.” Credence announced, his voice growing stronger with every word until his throat was straining to keep up. Percival grimaced even more, a tight, distasteful expression. For a moment, Credence thought he had won somehow. For a moment, he thought that maybe Percival would give up and allow them to be together. He thought that maybe Percival might even support him like he had promised he would.

A loud cracking noise echoed in the room like a whip. Credence became aware of the noise first, even before his vision blurred. He wasn't entirely sure what had just happened until the side of his head exploded in pain, burning up to his hairline and down to the back of his neck, his cheek the epicenter. A hot wetness stung his skin soon after, and after a few bleary blinks, he realized he was crying. And not only crying but audibly _sobbing._ He didn't remember falling to the floor, but he had gotten there somehow, staring down at his hands splayed out on the wood-grain floor as his tears dripped onto it.

“Credence--” Percival yelped, kneeling down beside the boy in a panic and reaching out to him, but Credence immediately flinched away from him, smacking his hands away and shoving himself back. “Come here—please—I'm _sorry_!” Percival begged, looking just as terror-stricken as the boy did, but he didn't have the flaming red palm mark on his cheek to explain it. Somehow, Percival managed to get a grip on Credence regardless of his fighting, and he pulled the boy into a tight hug that felt more suffocating than reassuring.

“God, I'm so sorry,” Percival was whispering hastily, rocking Credence in his arms and stroking his hair, the muscles in his arms and hands trembling in anguish, “I'm so sorry, Credence, I'm sorry...”

Choking back his tears, Credence forced himself to calm down. He bit back the last few hiccuping sobs that struggled to come out, blinked back the remaining tears, settled his face into one of resigned submission. Lacking emotion. Distancing himself. Still, his body remained stiff, his muscles taught and his heart racing. He stayed silent as Percival begged for forgiveness, his mind blank and his cheek still throbbing. The pain wasn't sharp now, however. It was dull. Aching.

“I never meant to hit you, Credence, please...” Percival whispered, pulling back enough to inspect Credence's injured cheek, though when he moved to touch it, Credence jerked away, staring anywhere but at the man directly in front of him, “Let me fix it, okay? Let me make it better.”

Taking Credence by the arms, Percival pulled him to his feet and brought him down the hall and into the bathroom. Credence merely allowed himself to be moved, not putting up a fight in the slightest. He all but dropped down like a lifeless doll when Percival sat him upon the toilet lid, and he stared down at the tiled floor as he listened to the man soak a towel in cold water before he tried to place it upon the blooming bruise. At first, the sensation of the rough hand-towel was enough to make Credence hiss in pain, but he quickly forced himself to adjust.

Holding the cold, damp towel against Credence's cheek, Percival regarded the boy quietly. He tried to meet Credence's gaze, but the boy adamantly looked away. Even when Percival tried to force their eyes to meet, Credence refused contact by keeping his gaze distant, unseeing. Percival clenched his jaw tight in irritation, but he wouldn't allow his anger to overwhelm him a second. Instead of lashing out, Percival gently cupped the back of Credence's neck. Taking a deep breath, Percival whispered, "Talk to me, Credence...”

But the boy didn't speak. the manly continued to stare distantly, cowering in his own mind. Percival glanced between his eyes, trying to find some sort of sign that Credence was still listening, but he found none. Disheartened, Percival pressed his lips into a line, then slowly let go of Credence.

"Maybe it'll be best to sleep it off--” Percival began to suggest, and Credence couldn't have moved faster. He was up from the toilet and stepping around Percival, escaping the bathroom in mere moments. He retreated to his bedroom, making it a point to shut and lock his door. The click of the deadbolt felt like a sharp sting in Percival's heart, but the man had no one to blame but himself for the pain.

He didn't know how to fix this, Percival soon realized. He had harmed the very boy he had promised to protect, scaring him away in the worst way possible. How did he even go about apologizing? He wasn't sure. He would have to try something, though...

Taking one look at Credence's bedroom door, Percival decided that it would be better to let the both of them cool off overnight. He would try to apologize in the morning before the took the girls to school.

Percival abandoned the first floor in favor of his bed. Credence, meanwhile, still sat awake in his bedroom long after the sun rose. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but he couldn't bear to close his eyes, not even for a second.

Percival had struck him. That, in itself, wasn't all too surprising. Credence figured that any punishment received was a punishment deserved. No, he was more concerned about his sisters. If Percival felt reason enough to strike Credence, what would stop him from raising a hand to Chastity or, God forbid, Modesty? In the back of his mind, Credence wondered if this was going to be like May Lou all over again.

No. He wouldn't let his sisters suffer. Not again. Not ever. Credence may not be old enough to adopt, nor wealthy enough to support them, but he had an incalculable amount of resistance and willpower. He suffered Mary Lou's absence for a majority of his childhood. He had fought Grindelwald's victims tooth and nail. He could redirect Percival's abuse onto himself and bear his anger long enough to keep the girls safe. As long as he treated them like his little princesses, Credence could bear the pain.

' _Self-sacrificing idiot...'_ Chastity whispered in Credence's mind, but the boy pushed it out of his head. It would do him no good to worry about himself, no when he needed to protect his sisters.

When he heard the others start their morning routine, Credence stepped out of his bedroom and joined them. He brushed his teeth with Modesty, helped Chastity brush her hair, and even sat with them at breakfast, which Percival had cooked up for them. He pretended like nothing had happened the other night, acted as if his cheek wasn't bruised and burning still. He knew Chastity had already seen the injury, but he could only hope that she assumed it was just from being Obscurus. He also hoped that if he didn't draw attention to the way she was openly staring at his cheek, that she wouldn't bring up the bruise at all.

“Okay, girls, go get in the car,” Percival announced at the end of breakfast, and the girls acted quickly, grabbing their schoolbags and slipping on their shoes before they left the house. Percival, however, lingered behind, waiting until the front door was shut before he turned to Credence.

Credence, who up until this point, had been looking happy and content. Now, though, he only looked uncomfortable and scared, and Percival knew it was all because of him.

“Credence,” He began to say, but the boy only withdrew from the man obviously not wanting to bring it up.

“Please, just go,” Credence begged in a quiet voice, staring at the wood floor, “I don't want to talk about it...”

“We _need_ to talk about it, Credence. I didn't mean to...” Percival huffed, disappointed in himself, and insisted genuinely, “I never meant to hurt you...”

“It's fine, Mr. Graves. The girls are going to be late--” Credence tried to usher him out, but Percival refused to be circumvented so easily.

“It's _not_ okay, Credence. A father should _never_ raise his hand to his children!” Percival declared, wishing that Credence would just... he wasn't sure. He wanted to be forgiven, of course. But he hated seeing the boy so... complacent with it all. He should have been angry. He should have been yelling or crying or trying to hit him back. But he just stood there, shoulders stiff and nose to the ground, silently begging to be ignored and forgotten.

“I guess it's a good thing you aren't my father,” Credence muttered coldly, the words cutting Percival in a way physical confrontation never would have. He wanted Credence to be angry, sure, but he didn't want to be resented...

“Take the girls to school, Mr. Graves, or we'll _all_ be late.” Credence tried to command him, but his voice was much too meek and his posture lacking confidence, making him sound pleading instead. Percival pressed his lips into a line, knowing that he really shouldn't leave Credence alone like this, that he _had_ to make it _right_... but the fact of the matter was that he just didn't know how to do that.

Defeated, Percival bowed his head, then turned away from Credence and left the house, closing the door behind him with more force than necessary. Credence sighed and found himself a spot on the couch. Finally alone, he had hoped that he would feel better, safer, but he could only think about having to see Percival again throughout the day. At least when he had been under Mary Lou's 'care', she had been gone for days or weeks at a time, and when she was home, Credence still had school to escape to. Now, however, he had nowhere. Percival was at home _and_ at school, and the thought of sitting through his class made his stomach twist.

An idea came to mind. It was foolish, perhaps. Reckless, definitely. Irresponsible, without a doubt. And yet, with all of this uncontested in his mind, Credence still pulled out his phone, started a new text, and typed out a quick message.

He didn't have to wait long for a response, and that thought was enough to make Credence smile.

' _Let's play hooky together!'_

With Newt on board, Credence dressed himself up and took off.

Suited up, they met in a small park as Animagus and Obscurus. They hid behind the public restroom as they transformed back. As they stepped out, Credence felt himself growing nervous. He had never skipped school before, but he had heard many stories about what could happen. He was afraid an officer might notice them, causing paranoia to creep up his skin. Newt, however, looked absolutely exhilarated.

“I haven't been around the city without my family in a long time,” Newt informed Credence, taking his hand and squeezing it tight before he looked around, “Where do you think we should go?”

“Erm... I'm not sure...” Credence mumbled, suddenly bashful, “I've never done much in the city either...”

Determined to have a good time, Newt grinned at his boyfriend and said, “Well, looks like we're about to do a new sort of patrolling, huh?” Credence chuckled at that.

“If we find Grindelwald today of all days...” Credence mentioned playfully, and Newt absolutely guffawed.

And then, completely out of the blue, Newt gasped and shouted, “Oh! I have just the thing in mind! Come on, if we hurry we can catch the bus!”

And thus, Credence allowed Newt to pull him along, and together they caught a bus on its way to the Central Park Zoo. They chatted amiably the entire ride there, fingers intertwined when Newt wasn't gesticulating wildly about the things he was talking about. Credence was almost certain the two of them were turning heads, what with their age and public affection, but he found himself hardly caring for once in his life. He thought he almost began to when Newt announced they were there, kissed Credence on the lips, then all but yanked him off the bus, but found he was more caught up in Newt's excitement than his own self-consciousness.

They paid their way in through a bored and yet curious looking booth operator, who asked them hesitantly, “Aren't you two supposed to be somewhere?” Credence's eyes widened in guilt, his pulse beginning to race, and he was just about to insist that they were there on a field trip, but Newt merely snorted out loud.

“Of course. That's why we're here instead!” He grinned cheekily, grabbing Credence by the sleeve and yanking him into the zoo despite the taller man's yelp.

“M-maybe we should just go...” Credence suggested, frowning when Newt gave him a surprised look.

“Huh? Why? It wasn't _that_ expensive...”

“No, I mean... what if they tell someone? We'll get in trouble...” Credence explained quietly, and this time, Newt grinned.

“Don't worry about it, really. Everyone plays hooky at least _once_ in their life.” Newt insisted, taking Credence's hand this time and pulling him along the walkway.

“I haven't...” Credence mumbled, and Newt's eyes positively sparkled.

“You are now!” He laughed. Credence flushed bright pink, then nervously smiled in response. The feeling of guilt morphed, then, into one of rebellion. It was an odd sensation, a kind of pride for doing the wrong thing, and Credence wondered if this was what sin was, but found he couldn't really mind it all too much. If God could forgive him for being gay, then he could forgive him for missing just one day of school. And if he couldn't, well... he was going to Hell anyways. He might as well enjoy life while he can.

Such a macabre thought, and yet Credence couldn't have felt more thrilled.

The zoo was a wonderful experience for both boys. While Newt had been there plenty of times and knew more about the animals than the zoo attendants, he never had someone to just _talk_ to, especially about the animals. Theseus would space out and ignore him, and his parents would sort of just humor him for a while before they insisted he explore on his own. Credence, on the other hand, listened to Newt's every word, watched him and the animals as he spoke, asked _questions._ He wasn't humoring him or avoiding him, he was paying attention to him and he was enjoying it. Newt felt his heart swell every time Credence gave him an awed look when he mentioned an interesting fact, and by the time they had done a circuit around the zoo, Newt felt like the most important guy in the world.

As they strolled their way out of the park, Newt looked to Credence and said, “Alright, your turn.”

“Huh?”

“It's only ten o'clock. It's your turn to choose something to do!” Newt explained with a smile, and Credence looked put on the spot as he thought. Hoping to soothe him a little, Newt reached out for Credence's hand and began to swing their arms as they walked. He could feel Credence squeeze his hand just slightly, and then saw the moment an idea came to mind.

“I-I... always wanted to see a movie in the theaters.” He told Newt, who gasped and pulled on Credence's arm.

“There's this documentary that started playing in the theater just this week!” He exclaimed, looking positively pumped, “Can we go see that one?”

“Sure,” Credence smiled, relieved that Newt at least chose that much. He would have had no clue what to watch if Newt insisted he choose the venue _and_ the movie.

Catching another bus, they found themselves walking into a lavish movie theater, thick with the buttery scent of popcorn and the cacophony of excited movie-goers. They stood in line with the rest of the patrons before purchasing their tickets. Just as the woman handed the tickets over, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at them and asked, “Aren't you two supposed to be somewhere else?”

Newt glanced back at Credence, an amused grin on his face, and Credence sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“Yeah,” He answered the woman in a soft voice, trying to make eye-contact, but unable to get any higher than her chin, “Thought this was more interesting, though.”

Newt giggled, approval in his gaze, and he brought Credence away from the line and towards the hall where the theater doors sat waiting. Credence looked around in wonder, dazzled by how many movies were playing at once. Newt found their theater for them, then brought them to the seats directly in the middle. A few others were sitting, speckled throughout the room comfortably, all speaking softly to one another or perusing the web on their phones. Newt nudged the armrest between their seats up, allowing the auburn boy to lean heavily against Credence's shoulder, his cheek finding a comfortable spot there. Credence felt warmth crawl from head to toe, and he shyly wrapped an arm around Newt's waist. He sort of wished they were laying down instead, it would make cuddling much easier, but he was too excited to finally see a movie to care all too much.

The lights dimmed and the silver screen sparkled to life. Credence stared in awe, overwhelmed by the size and color and definition of the film. The documentary's narrator had a soothing, intelligent voice that made his chair vibrate from the volume. They were talking about the ocean and its beauty, and with the shots of the deep blue displayed, Credence couldn't help but agree.

And the entire time, he could feel Newt leaning against him, shifting every once-in-a-while or readjusting the position of his head. At one point, he felt Newt's hand on his thigh, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his jeans before smoothing it back down. It could have been distracting, could have been the start of something else, but Credence was too far gone in the film to react.

By the time the film ended and the two of them were stepping out of the dark theater, Credence realized that he could have been doing something very different with Newt in that isolating darkness. The feeling of Newt's fingers on his thigh was but a memory now, but his haunted him powerfully. He glanced Newt's way, seeing the man look lost in his own mind, thinking about something with a fierce singularity that he all but jumped when Credence called out his name.

“Do you... um...” Credence began to ask, but he felt his nerves get the better of him before he had the chance to spit it out. Newt eyed him curiously, a small smile always on his lips, and he squeezed Credence's hand in a reassuring gesture.

“Let's go back to my place. It's nearly one, now, and Theseus will be home from school at two thirty.” Newt decided, and Credence immediately began to nod, trying not to think of the fact that it would almost be time for Credence to have gone to Percival's class. He wondered for a moment what Percival might think of him when he realized Credence ditched school. He wondered if he was just setting himself up for more punishment this way, and thought about just going home and playing sick instead.

Getting back on the bus with Newt, the younger man practically squeezed up against Credence, holding onto his hand tightly and prattling off nonsense about the movie they had just watched. Credence listened with just as much intensity as he had at the zoo, loving the way Newt moved when he talked about something he found exciting. He could feel Newt's hand, the one he was holding onto, jerking in his grip, as if he wanted to wave it around with the other, but even when he loosened his grip to allow him that freedom, Newt seemed resolute on keeping their fingers twisted together.

They arrived at Newt's house only fifteen minutes later. They stepped inside silently, Newt locking the door behind them as Credence removed his shoes and set them aside. Without prompting, they went up the stairs and into Newt's bedroom. Credence settled himself on Newt's bed while the boy shucked off his jacket and pants, immediately getting comfortable in his typical house-clothes of a t-shirt and silly printed boxers—today's being pastel pink with puffy blue cartoon clouds. Credence chuckled at the sight of them, tilting his head to the side a bit while Newt tossed his jeans into the corner of his room with the rest of his worn clothes.

As soon as he was changed, Newt joined Credence on his bed, setting his knees on either side of Credence's hips. He wrapped his arms around Credence's neck and kissed him innocently, only to settle down on Credence's lap and say, “I had a lot of fun today...”

“Me too,” Credence hummed, putting his hands on Newt's hips, his thumb tracing the outline of one of the clouds.

“You know...” Newt began to say, turning his gaze down at Credence's shirt, fiddling with the collar nervously, “The other night...”

Credence immediately blushed, the memory of Animagus kneeling in front of him and kissing his abdomen fresh in his mind, and he wished for a moment that Newt hadn't decided to sit so delicately on his lap. “I-It's okay, I-I didn't want you to think that you h-had to...”

Newt looked up at him suddenly, gaze intense, and he said with confidence, “But I wanted to.” And then, with a coy grin, he added, “I _still_ want to.” He tilted his head, trying to look innocent, although Credence saw nothing but seductive hope in his eyes, “Do _you_ want to?”

He cleared his throat roughly. He opened his mouth, wanting to say yes, _God_ yes did he want to, but the words were trapped in his throat and the longer he struggled, the less confidence he became. He had never done something like that before, had never even thought about it until just the other night... What if he did it wrong or embarrassed himself? He didn't want Newt to laugh at him...

Said teen leaned in and placed a wet kiss on Credence's cheek, a playful glint in his eyes, and he said, “This might seem... weird, but...” He bit his bottom lip, nervous but excited, and he stuttered, “I-I think about it a lot... Well... a lot more since we started dating... It's been a month, and I was thinking... maybe... You know, not the _whole_ way, but... erm...”

Credence sucked in a sharp breath, heart pounding in his chest. He could feel himself blushing all the way down to his shoulders, and he eyes Newt hesitantly before he asked, “What have you... thought about?”

With a huge breath, Newt admitted, “A _lot_ , actually. I mean, I've had a crush on you—er, or rather, Obscurus—for the longest time. I always thought about kissing you and holding you and stuff, but... but when we got together, I just... I couldn't stop thinking about... well...” He huffed, completely embarrassed, and said in a tight voice, “That night on the rooftop... I've been thinking about doing that for _weeks_.”

The way his heart skipped nearly made Credence think he was having a heart attack, but its relentless pounding resumed, squeezing blood into the farthest digits and even elsewhere. He tried to clear his throat again but found himself choking on the action, and he wondered if Newt wanted to do that _right now_.

“This could have been a lot more romantic, huh?” Newt joked lightly, though the nerves were still there, underneath his words. Credence smiled and nodded mutely, earning a soft laugh from his boyfriend. “Well, let me light a candle at least--”

He tried to get up, but Credence clung to him almost desperately, not wanting him to move just yet. Newt gasped when he found himself pinned to Credence's lap, and even the second time he tried, Credence wouldn't let go of him. Glancing up at him, Newt found Credence looking away, and he smiled gently at the man.

Leaning in close enough to press a soft kiss to his temple, Newt whispered, “You'll have to let go of me if you want me.” Credence's grip tightened, and Newt's breath hitched, “Credence... Let me take care of you?”

He shuddered, the words sending that unfamiliar tingle of pleasure down his spine, and after a pause, he reluctantly loosened his grip. He watched as Newt wiggled backwards, setting one foot on the floor before the other, and then lowering himself down to his knees right after. He nudged Credence's thighs apart with his hands, pulling the jeans he wore tight over his hips, and he wormed his way in between them, never once dropping eye contact.

“Newt,” Credence whispered, nervous, but the redhead merely smirked and ran his hands from the inside of Credence's thighs up to his hip bones, relishing the tremor that wracked his body at the sensation.

“Lean back if you want,” Newt suggested, pressing a kiss to the side of his knee, and then meeting his hands at the front of his pants, slowly popping open the button and pulling down the zipper. Credence thought about it for a moment, laying back while Newt touched him, but decided against it. He wanted to see Newt the whole time, wanted to experience it with him. If he couldn't see the man, it would be as if he weren't there at all, and Credence was half-afraid that if he looked away even for a moment, he would wake up from this as if it were a dream.

They reached the point that they had been interrupted the night before. Credence's jeans were open, his dull gray boxer briefs visible for all to see. He felt a wave of embarrassment at the thought that Newt was looking at him now, was _seeing_ his arousal. He wanted to reach down and cover it up, maybe even call the whole thing off and just go home, but then Newt's warm hands were stroking his skin, caressing the space just above his waistband, and Credence felt like it was going to be alright. A brief touch of lips on the skin above his pubic bone followed by the slightest tease of his tongue and teeth only served to convince Credence further, especially when he couldn't help but twitch upwards. Newt huffed a small laugh, obviously pleased with Credence's reaction, and continued to shimmy his jeans and boxer briefs down.

The second Credence was exposed, he felt another wave of embarrassment rush through him. Since he couldn't cover his groin, he used both hands to cover his face instead, although he still peered down at the redhead from between his fingers. Newt glanced back up at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and gave him a cheeky grin in response.

“T-tell me how it feels?” Newt asked, bringing a trembling hand towards Credence's arousal. After a hesitant nod from Credence, Newt took in a slow breath and focused wholly on the flesh in his hand. Just like Credence, Newt had never done anything like this before. Unlike Credence, though, Newt had a lot more 'theoretical lessons' as Newt like to think of them when in reality, he just watched porn on occasion.

Using what he's seen as a very loose guide, Newt shuffled even closer to Credence's body, then brought his lips to skin.

Credence's initial reaction was a gasp and a full-body twitch, nearly kicking Newt off of him entirely. The younger man grunted a little at the jostling, then huffed and clamped Credence's thighs down with his elbows, saying heatedly, “If you kick me when you're in my mouth, you're gunna get bit.”

“S-sorry,” Credence mumbled, lowering his hands just a bit more to get a better view. Newt smiled up at him, a kind, forgiving thing, then leaned in once more sealing his lips around the head. Credence choked on his breath, his body trying to buck once again, but Newt kept his hips pinned this time. The only way Credence could exert the electric-like jolt of pleasure, was to toss his head backwards and clutch at the bed sheets, finally dropping his hands from his face. Newt smiled with Credence still in his mouth, then opened his mouth a little more and moved further down.

“N-N-Newt...” Credence whimpered, dropping his head forward, and peering down at the man, shuddering as he watched Newt swallow more down, going far enough that his teeth began to touch sensitive skin. He gave a sharp hiss when the scrape turned painful, and Newt immediately backed off, peering back up at Credence curiously.

“Teeth,” Credence mentioned quietly, and Newt hummed apologetically before he resumed his focus. Making sure not to go _too_ far down, Newt began to bob his head slowly, closing his eyes and focusing on his method. He sucked tight, breathed through his nose, wiggled his tongue, tried everything he could think of. Each new sensation elicited an equally new reaction that Newt greedily cataloged in his mind, mentally ranking them from appealing to _most_ appealing, which was a struggle when each new noise made Newt wish he had capable enough motor skills to support multi-tasking.

Credence, meanwhile, was simply lost in the ocean of sensations. Newt wasn't particularly good at what he was doing, but Credence wasn't practiced in it either, and every little stroke or slide had him wishing for more. He thought he was going to burst when he felt the tip of Newt's tongue slide between skin and head, his entire body lifting off the bed as his muscles tightened. Before he could enjoy his first orgasm, however, Newt was pulling away, a nervous look in his eyes.

“N—nnh...” Credence whined between gritted teeth, dropping back down on the bed, tortured from the sudden lack of pleasure. He almost wanted to cry from the loss, and he nearly asked Newt why he stopped, but he couldn't get his brain to piece together even that short sentence.

“Is it okay?” Newt asked hoarsely, reaching out to take Credence's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, “Did I hurt you?”

“G—guh...” Credence gulped, what used to be unimaginable pleasure turning into a dull, incomparable ache deep in his abdomen. Newt pulled Credence's hand closer to himself, kissing his knuckles apologetically, but Credence just wished he would get back to kissing something else.

“I'm sorry, I-I guess I didn't really know what I was doing--” Newt babbled, leaning further away from Credence's lap which only elicited a panicked whimper from the man, “No, don't worry, I'll stop--”

“ _Newt!”_ Credence wheezed, looking into the boy's eyes, “W-was good... p-please... _God_ , please...”

“Oh...” Newt glanced down at Credence's lap, then back up at his face, blushing scarlet, “ _Oh_! Oh, oh, Credence I'm--” He began to apologize for a second time, but the older boy only groaned desperately, squeezing Newt's hand tight.

“ _Ne-ewt!_ ” He complained, and the redhead gasped and nodded quickly.

“Right, yes, okay, erm--” Newt cleared his throat, and with one last glance upwards, he sank his head back down over Credence's length, earning a relieved, breathy moan from his boyfriend.

Having already been brought to the edge, getting Credence back on the brink was a quick and easy process. Newt favored playing with the sensitive foreskin, be it with his tongue or with his lips. Credence announced his pleasure with his half-choked words and jerking reactions. Newt hummed pleasantly against Credence's flesh, and the man echoed the noise with his own voice, breathlessly moaning Newt's name.

He was approaching the edge fast for the second time that night. He tried to keep himself steady, tried to clutch at the bed tightly and keep his bottom on the bed, but the pleasure was taking control once again, rendering his mind blank and his muscles independent.

“Aa—ah...” Credence tried to warn Newt, but his tongue felt too good and Credence's words were too complicated to work out. Newt began to pull up, dragging his lips languidly up his length, and the moment he popped off with a gasp, giving Credence the gorgeous view of his open mouth, bruised lips and wet tongue, Credence burst.

“G-God, _yes_....” Credence wheezed, pleasure turned to ecstasy turned to satisfaction and relief. He felt completely blissful, absolutely at peace, only to finally gaze down at his wonderful boyfriend to find his face scrunched up in distaste.

Panting heavily, Credence whispered, “Newt?” and the redhead grunted irritably.

Awkwardly reaching up to try and wipe most of it from his face, Newt muttered, “Don't really know why I wasn't expecting this...”

“I'm sorry,” Credence breathed, becoming bashful all over again, but Newt offered him a smile before he got to his feet.

“You sit there while I wash my face,” He ordered, and Credence found he couldn't really argue, even if he wanted to. He did, however, fix up his pants with a fierce blush while he heard the bathroom sink running just down the hall.

Credence collapsed back onto Newt's bed, feeling his racing heart slowly settle, the light sheen of sweat drying cold on his skin, and his pleasantly blank mind slowly refilling with thoughts and worries and ideas. In the bathroom, he could hear Newt begin to hum to himself as he meticulously cleaned his face from Credence's mess. With a warped sense of guilt, Credence decided to attempt to apologize, one way or another.

Getting up from the bed, Credence crept his way towards the bathroom, making sure to stay low just in case Newt caught a glimpse of him in the mirror. Successfully sneaking up behind the man, Credence reached out, then quickly grabbed Newt and all but pinned him to the counter. Newt all but yelped out in surprise, about to gasp out Credence's name when the man stuffed his hand down Newt's boxers, finding his prize in moments. He was rewarded with a shudder and a groan, along with the perfect view of Newt's face in the mirror as it slackened in relaxed pleasure.

“Good?” Credence whispered, brows lifting when he realized just how slick Newt already was, his boxers a mess of precum that made the cloth stick to skin. He could stroke his length with minimal resistance, immediately discovering that Newt was far more vocal than he himself was.

“Credence...” Newt gasped, dropping his head forward as he rocked his hips into Credence's fist, clutching the edge of the sink desperately while his knees knocked together. “O-Oh...”

Credence moved his second hand down as well, but only to push Newt backwards, forcing their bodies to press against one another as Credence played with Newt's intimacy. He didn't know what he was doing, just like Newt, but the basic idea was a simple one. If it feels good to be touched, then it must feel good to touch.

He found in a moment of curiosity that Newt didn't have a lot of extra skin like Credence had. He wondered why for only a short while, quickly being distracted by Newt tossing his head back and letting out a disastrously loud moan that only made Credence glad they were alone. With a smile, Credence pressed a few wandering kisses along the side of Newt's neck, paying extra attention to the wet head which seemed to be the most receptive part of him.

“H-haa... Oh—Oh, Credence...” Newt whimpered airily, rocking his hips rhythmically into his grip. The slide of his length along his palm only made Credence wonder what else Newt could do with it, where else it might feel good to press their bodies together. He had been sated earlier by Newt's mouth, but now that this door was open, Credence was looking forward to exploring every last avenue with his sweet boyfriend.

His boyfriend who, incidentally, collapsed back against Credence with a cry, his hips still jerking half-heartedly as he spilled over messily. Credence stopped his motions long enough to let Newt cool down and then removed his hands from the man's overheated body, washing the evidence away in the sink.

“You j-jerk...” Newt huffed, his legs much too wobbly to hold his tired body up, so Credence helped him sit on the nearest surface—the closed toilet lid.

“It wasn't good?” Credence asked with a frown, kneeling in front of Newt on the bath mat just so his knees didn't suffer on the tiled floor. Newt scoffed angrily and lightly shoved Credence's shoulder.

“It _was_ , but I didn't want to get off in my _bathroom_!” Newt complained, shoving Credence a second time before he relented, pouting miserably, “I wanted it to be _romantic_.”

“Oh,” Credence hummed, frowning still as he thought about it, and eventually decided, “We can try again?”

Newt blinked down at his boyfriend, then immediately burst out into laughter. At first, Credence felt embarrassed and self-conscious, but when Newt admitted, “I'd _love_ to,” Credence felt that warmth bloom in his chest once again. Happily, Newt pulled Credence in for a long kiss, something that Credence still enjoyed even after discovering the loose-limbed pleasantness of release.

“Now come on, I have to change my boxers since you've made a right mess of them.” Newt chuckled, finally finding the strength balance himself on his own two legs, and Credence happily followed.

 


	21. Chapter 20: Origin Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for rape mention. not at all explicit because I don't do that shit.
> 
> Chapter could also be called Papa Graves: The Finale

Credence got home before the others did, but only by minutes. He had just enough time to haphazardly change back into his pajamas and crawl into bed before he heard the front door swing open, admitting his two sisters and their foster parent.

“Credence!” Percival all but shouted as he entered the house, “Damn it--”

Credence jumped when Percival threw his bedroom door open, flinching when it slammed against the wall, but while he expected Percival to pounce on him and demand answers, Percival only took a relieved breath and leaned against the door frame. Under his breath, Credence heard the man whisper, “Oh, thank God...”

“Mr. Graves?” Modesty called out from the living room, sounding just as terrified as Credence felt. The man looked up, most likely towards his youngest sister, and offered her a small, comforting smile.

“Don't worry, girls. Your brother must have been sick today,” He explained, glancing towards Credence fleetingly, a worried tinge in his eyes, and added, “He didn't show up at school today and I was worried, but he's alright.”

Chastity appeared in the doorway soon after, obviously not about to take Percival's word for it, and made her way to her older brother to see for herself just how 'alright' he was. Credence grunted when Chastity slapped her hand onto his forehead, then his cheeks, taking his temperature with a practiced touch.

“Nauseous?” She asked, and Credence shook his head no, “Headache?” Credence hesitated, then nodded. Chastity frowned, then sighed and got up from his bed, going for his window and propping it open to allow fresh air in, although she kept the blinds down in order to keep the sun out.

“You should have told me,” She pointed out to her brother, shooing Percival out of the room with the request of getting Credence a cup of water. As soon as they were alone, Chastity went back to Credence's side and whispered, “What happened, Credence?”

“Nothing,” He insisted, but Chastity only glared at him before she glanced at his cheek, still bruised from Percival.

“Well, _someone_ gave you this,” She mentioned, lifting a hand to gently stroke over the bruise. Meeting his eye again, she said, “And it better not be one of the two men who are popping into my mind, Credence.”

Shrinking back, Credence refused to answer. Chastity was about to interrogate him some more when Percival arrived with a glass of water, which she accepted with thanks.

“Are you feeling okay?” Percival asked, but Credence ignored him too. The man shifted awkwardly on his feet, unsure about what to do. With a sigh, he mumbled, “Okay. Call me if you need me.” Then abruptly left.

Chastity watched the doorway for a long moment, then turned back to Credence, not about to back down. “Who did it?”

“It doesn't matter, Chastity,” Credence argued, but Chastity merely crossed her arms and asked it again.

“Who did it, Credence?”

Knowing she wasn't going to leave him alone until he told her, Credence shut his eyes with a huff, then mumbled, “M-Mr. Graves... b-but he didn't mean to--”

“Credence!” Chastity wailed, looking heartbroken, “He _hit_ you?”

“It was an accident!” Credence tried to defend the man but to no avail. Chastity got up from his bed, distraught and scared.

“We have to tell Ms. Goldstein, Credence! If he's done it once he'll do it again, you _know_ that!” Chastity said, and Credence got up from his bed as well, grabbing her by the arms to stop her.

“No, I swear, it was just an accident, Chastity! Besides, he's been the _best_ foster parent we've had! If we tell Ms. Goldstein, we'll risk being split up again!” Credence pointed out, and Chastity squirmed in his grip.

“What if he hits _me_ , Credence? What if he hits Modesty?”

“He won't! He only hit me because I deserved it!” Credence admitted, which turned out to be the worst thing he could say. Immediately, Chastity's fear turned into disbelief, and then anger.

“You're doing it _again_!” She accused, shoving Credence back with a strong arm, getting a surprised glance from her brother, “You're sacrificing your well-being for us _again!_ Credence, you—you idiot!”

“Chastity, I'm only trying to do what's best!” Credence explained, trying to get her to see reason, to understand him, but Chastity still didn't relax.

“What's _best_ is to call Ms. Goldstein, tell her Mr. Graves _hit_ you, and to get _all_ of us somewhere safe! And if that means that we get split up, then so be it, but I won't stand here and let that man put his hands on you!” She turned, then, intent on doing just what she said she would, but Credence grabbed her by the arm once again and pulled her back.

“No, Chastity, don't!” He begged, wide-eyed and frantic, “Please, I can handle this, just don't call Ms. Goldstein!”

“You're not invincible, Credence!” Chastity huffed, eyes welling up with tears, “You're going to get yourself _killed_ because of us!”

“I've fought Grindelwald's victims for years, Chastity. I can bear a little punishment.” Credence claimed, but Chastity scoffed at him, looking downright disgusted.

In a bold moment, Chastity reached forward and grabbed Credence by the necklace of the Miraculous. With enough speed and force, she snapped it off and held it by the metal pendant. Credence shouted, more surprised that she managed to snatch it so easily than worried about what she might do with it.

 _“This_ isn't you _!”_ She claimed, holding the Miraculous up in her first, “You're not Obscurus!”

With a grunt, she threw the Miraculous at the window. Credence watched it sail through the air in horror, his heart leaping to his throat as it tumbled towards the open slot, and he tried desperately to lunge for it. The necklace merely slipped through his fingers, however, but he did manage to knock the pendant down, causing the Miraculous to bounce off the desk in front of the window, then fall in the crack between it and the wall. Chastity huffed loudly, stomping her way out of Credence's bedroom and slamming the door shut.

“Ch-Chastity!” He called after her, but she didn't come back, and Credence didn't go after her. Instead, he dropped to his hands and knees and reached far under the desk, searching blindly for the Miraculous. He could feel the light lining of dust on the hardwood floor, brushed aside a few stray dust bunnies, and then his fingers landed on the metal pendant and he found he could breathe again.

He began to pull the pendant out but paused when he felt the brush of paper against his hand as well. Grabbing both the pendant and the paper, Credence pulled them out from underneath the desk and back into the light. He placed the Miraculous on his bed as he examined the paper, which turned out to be a small envelope, about the size of his palm from heel to fingertip. He turned it over as he settled on the chair at his desk, frowning when he saw his name written on the front.

Instantly, he remembered that he had found this envelope in the copy of _Hamlet_ that Mr. Graves bought him when they first moved in. He had been about to open it when he first saw it, but he completely forgot about it until now. Curious, Credence turned the envelope back around and reopened it, carefully sliding out the paper inside.

The paper turned out to be a photo, an artfully taken portrait of a young woman with a mysterious smile, skin as pale and bright as the moon and eyes and hair as black as the sky it hung in. The only splash of color on her was in her lipstick and blush, the lipstick being a vibrant and dark red while the blush was a gentle dusting of rose on the apple of her cheek. She was gorgeous, Credence thought, but she was also familiar. He didn't really understand why until an odd thought occurred, and he soon found himself in front of the mirror.

He held up the portrait of this woman, then looked at himself. He glanced between the two images slowly, taking in the way his eyes matched hers, the color of his skin and hair, and even the tilt of his smile when he did it purposefully. There was no doubt in Credence's mind that this woman was his mother, and as soon as it hit him, he found himself crying.

Desperate for a name, something to call her by other than _'this woman'_ , Credence turned the picture around and read what was scrawled on the back. In an elegant hand, far more decorative than Percival's had been on the front of the envelope, Credence read out her name just to hear it.

“Genevieve... Grindelwald.” Credence blinked, then looked at himself in the mirror again, and whispered in a haunted voice, “It's a last name...?”

A knock at his door had Credence nearly jumping into the air, and when he spun around, he found Percival entering, a look of sheer regret in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something to Credence, but he caught sight of the photo in his hands, and immediately he turned serious.

“Credence,” He said instead, and Credence clutched at the photograph tighter.

“This is her, isn't it? My mom? And you... you knew?” Credence interrogated, and Percival closed his eyes and nodded. “And her name...? _My_ name? Is it really...?”

Percival took in a deep breath, eyes still closed, then admitted, “She was his sister...”

“And you _knew_?!” Credence asked again, tears still falling from his eyes, tears that he didn't bother to wipe away. “You knew and you didn't tell me?!”

“What did you want me to say?” Percival argued, finally looking at Credence again, “That you're related to the worst criminal Manhattan has ever had? That your uncle is the very man we've been fighting for the past _decade_? If I had told you that when I first found out, you would have thought that his evil is in you, too, and it's _not_ , Credence.”

Credence shuddered, knowing that Percival was right, but still feeling like he deserved to know regardless. In a mix of emotions, he asked, “If you knew her, then you know who my father is, right?”

Percival gritted his teeth, then looked away, but Credence wouldn't let him get away with any more secrets. “You know, don't you?”

“Credence, please--” He began to beg, but Credence only wanted the truth from this man.

“Tell me. Right now.” He demanded, keeping his expression stern even when Percival looked at him as if he had just been threatened at gunpoint. When he didn't say or do anything, Credence said again, “Tell. Me.”

Sucking in a breath and looking less than prepared for this moment, Percival whispered, “Okay.... okay. But... but it's a long story--”

“I don't care.” Credence interrupted him, brows furrowed and eyes still wet, “I want to hear it. I want to hear every last second of it.”

“Okay.” He agreed again, stepping further into the room, then locking the door behind him, “Sit down and just... promise me _not_ to interrupt. If... If you're going to hear this story, then you're going to hear me out to the very end before you assume anything. Do you understand?”

Credence clenched his jaw, not sure if he really wanted to agree to such terms, but he reluctantly nodded anyways and sat himself back down at his desk, photo of Genevieve still clutched in his hands. Percival sighed again and rubbed his hands harshly against his face, mumbling from behind his palms, “I need you to understand just who your mother was. I need you to understand _why_ these things happened, _why_ she did the things she did. And I want you to know that... that no matter what, she _loved_ you, Credence. Ever since she knew you were there, growing within her, she wanted to do right by you.”

Credence took in a shaking breath, and Percival took a moment to think before beginning his story.

“Back then... I wasn't known as The Director. Back then, I was Auror, and beside me were Legilimens and her twin sister Thunderbird, the Madam as our leader, Imperio—your mother, and her brother...” Percival met Credence's eyes, looking just as ashamed as before, “who was also my lover, Gellert Grindelwald.

“Things were so different back then. We were just your average crime fighters, battling the odd cut-purse and making sure Manhattan slept well at night. We didn't have a bad guy with our powers to fight against. There was no need for us, not really, but there we were anyways, always ready to save the day. We used our powers sparingly, rarely ever needing them. And we were all so young, all in our twenties. We were all so foolish...

“We knew each other personally. I shared an apartment with Gellert and his sister, the twins lived in their own home, and Madam lived alone as well. We lived all across Manhattan, keeping an eye on every part of the city every last waking moment, enjoying our youth and ignorance.

“But things changed with Gellert. He had always been a loyal man to me, but he was a mad genius of a man, always thinking up crazy schemes or intricate ideas that no one understood. I admired him for them, always felt like I was special when he shared these with me. I was in love with him, but he was only obsessed with the idea of love. One day, he decided he wanted a family, wanted children. I was so young, I didn't want to think about kids for a long time, but he insisted. I wanted him to be happy, I wanted to keep him as mine, so... I agreed.

“Being a homosexual couple, we couldn't adopt. Gellert didn't want to adopt anyways. He was adamant about having a child from our own flesh and blood, no matter how impossible that was. I told him this, repeatedly. We couldn't both be the father. He didn't like that fact... so he found a way around it.

“I.... I came home, one night. It was dark, and Gellert was there waiting for me. He told me he found a solution to our problem. Took me by the hand and led me to our bedroom, where... where Genevieve was waiting. There was something wrong with her, I knew there had to be, but she.... she never fought it. She didn't make a single noise, not even when...” Percival gulped, and Credence felt anger like poison burning his insides.

Another sharp breath and Percival stared down at his lap, swallowing back his tears, “We found out she was pregnant a month after. Gellert was so happy, but I was... terrified. I didn't want a child, I wasn't ready for parenthood. Genevieve was... not herself. She was distant, didn't respond to anyone, didn't go out with us anymore. She was terrified of me and Gellert, of course, but she was too scared to leave the apartment, too. But she spoke to you constantly, was always singing to you or reading you stories. She loved you, I _know_ she did.

“I tried to apologize to her one way or another. I don't know how I did it, but... she forgave me. Or maybe she pitied me. We were both being controlled by Gellert, even if she was the only one who realized it at the time. Maybe she thought I was as much of a victim as she was... I don't know. All I know is that one day she wouldn't even look at me, and the next, she and I were laying in her room, feeling you kick and fuss as she sang you a lullaby. It was with her that I felt like I could handle being a father, that I could take care of a child... but the more we got along, the more jealous Gellert became.

“He didn't do anything until the night you were born. I was there. I was planning on taking you and leaving Gellert. Genevieve wanted to come with me, wanted to be your mother still, and we already had it all worked out, but... But Gellert found out. In a fit of rage, he threatened to kill you, threatened to kill us, and then vanished. I didn't think much of it, he had always been so dramatic and I thought we were invincible. I went home alone while Genevieve stayed the night at the hospital. And then the next day, she was... gone.”

“She didn't kill herself. She never would have, Credence. She loved you far too much to have done such a thing, and I know it. Even if no one else believes me, I _know_ Gellert had something to do with her death.” Percival claimed, although he couldn't look Credence in the eye, “Especially since the day she was pronounced dead, Gellert took her Miraculous and used a combination of their power to become Grindelwald.”

“I tried to go back for you, but Legilimens and Thunderbird knew what I had done to Genevieve. They kept both me and Grindelwald from the hospital until you were deemed relinquished to the state and taken away by CPS. Grindelwald saw it as a personal attack to take you from him and he lashed out, nearly destroying Manhattan that very same day. If it weren't for the rest of us, Manhattan would have been rubble and ash.

“No matter what we tried, Gellert wouldn't calm down. He vowed to find you one way or another. He demanded Madam return you to him or else he would continue to destroy the city. She refused him, and so he became our enemy. It was... hard, fighting the man I loved. Every time we came face-to-face I would freeze up. I was still loyal to him, just as I thought he was to me. He realized this soon enough, and he used his powers on me because of my vulnerability.

“I was his first victim. Using the combined power of his own and Genevieve, he planted an Imperius in me and forced me to fight my allies. I was all too malleable under his direction, my heart and mind at war with one another. I wanted to fight them, I wanted to punish them for taking my son away from me, from taking _you_ away from me, and Gellert... _fed_ this want, made it my obsession. Together, we were nearly unstoppable. We almost had Manhattan in our hands...

“Then one day I found you. And then Madam caught me alone. She tore my Miraculous from me, expelled the Imperius, and declared an end to our reign. Not too long after, she demanded that we give up our Miraculouses, pass them on to someone who can protect Manhattan in our stead. The twins obeyed without question. Thunderbird passed her power on to you and Legilimens to Newt. I, on the other hand, refused. I told Madam that there was no one I knew who I trusted with my power. She didn't push me. She had said the same thing about hers.

“Gellert continued to rampage throughout Manhattan, but it was no longer our job to protect it. That responsibility had been passed on to Obscurus and Animagus. And if I stepped in every once-in-a-while, it was just to guide you, never to fight. Even now I know that if I saw Grindelwald, I wouldn't know where my loyalties would lie.”

Sitting up straight, Percival cleared his throat and said, “That is how I knew your mother. That is how she died and how you became alone.”

“You raped her,” Credence whispered, and Percival tried to keep his expression neutral.

“Please believe me when I say that she deserved _so much_ better, Credence... but through all of the things she suffered, she _cherished_ you.”

Credence felt raw. He was dry of tears, but his heart was aching and his throat burned. He looked down at the photo of Genevieve, of his mother, and felt torn right down the middle. He never knew why she had to leave him, always thought she chose death over him, but if what Percival says is true, then...

“Grindelwald killed my mother.” Credence whispered, staring down at her photo, “You raped my mother and then Grindelwald killed her...”

“She never abandoned you, Credence.” Percival whispered gently, “And I never wanted to, either.”

Credence clutched at the photograph, anger rising once again, and in a quiet voice he whispered, “I hate you.”

“Credence?” Percival gasped, and the teen tightened his jaw and tried to keep from crumpling Genevieve's photo.

“I _hate_ you!” He shouted this time, getting up from the chair so fast that it knocked the furniture over, “You—you _bastard!_ Everything that happened to me—to _her—_ it's all your fault!” He yelled, and even though Percival stared up at him, wide-eyed and broken, Credence didn't feel satisfied, “You're not my father. You're a sick, perverted sinner, an adulterer, a murderer.”

Stepping forward to snatch his Miraculous from the bed, Credence all but spat out, “Burn in Hell,” before he marched out of the bedroom.

 


	22. Chapter 21: Selfie Suicide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things will pick back up in the next chapter!

Theseus was halfway through his breakfast when Newt came downstairs and joined him. They were having cereal as Mr. and Mrs. Scamander got ready for the day in their bedroom upstairs. Theseus muttered a tired good morning, mouth full and mind focused on not falling asleep again. Newt brushed past him almost gracefully, a smile on his face, and he returned the sentiment with a lot more feeling than his brother.

That was Theseus' first tip that something was up with his little brother. He blinked up at him, watching as Newt grabbed a bowl and a box of cereal all while humming. He filled up his bowl, topped it with orange juice—something Newt did and _only_ Newt did—then joined his brother at the kitchen table. His mind was elsewhere, as usual, but whatever he was thinking about was bringing a bright smile to his face, paired with a bashful blush that Theseus couldn't believe he was seeing.

Silently trying to discern what was going on with Newt, Theseus continued to stare at him, not even touching his cereal anymore. Newt didn't seem to notice, he just continued to eat and think. He didn't say another word to his brother, so Theseus decided not to mention his strange mood either.

As soon as he was done with breakfast, Theseus got up and washed his bowl, then announced he was heading to school. Newt bid him a good day in that bright, sunny voice that Theseus was so unused to, and Theseus all but squinted at him curiously.

“Are you... feeling okay?” Theseus asked his brother as he pulled on his shoes. Newt gave him an owlish look, surprised, and then grinned.

“I feel amazing.” He answered, which only made Theseus even more. “Why?”

Theseus sniffed, then pulled on his backpack and answered airily, “No particular reason.” He turned towards the front door and began to unlock it, prepared to leave when a thought crossed his mind. One that both made him proud and cringe at the mere idea. He glanced back at Newt, really surveyed him, and then asked, “See Obscurus lately?”

Newt went absolutely pink, and Theseus nearly felt his jaw hit the ground with how fast it dropped. All at once, Theseus accused, “Did you sleep with--?!”

“No!” Newt gasped, looking absolutely scandalized, although the red in his cheeks begged to differ, “W-we went on a date yesterday, okay? That's it!”

“ _Just_ a date?” Theseus interrogated, and Newt huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms.

“ _Just_ a date.” He confirmed, forcing himself to meet Theseus' eye, though he couldn't keep it for more than a few moments. Theseus scoffed in disbelief.

“He got in your pants, didn't he?” Theseus claimed, and Newt's face set fire with how red it became. Taking that as confirmation enough, Theseus hissed out, “You _slept_ with Obscurus?!”

“We didn't sleep together!” Newt bit back, embarrassed, “We just... hung out!”

“And what part of you was doing the hanging?”

“Don't be gross!” Newt groaned, covering his face with his hands, “This is why I didn't want to tell you!”

“Oh, don't play that with me!” Theseus snorted, pointing a finger at Newt, “You're fraternizing with a superhero! Of course I'm going to ask questions!”

Newt gave Theseus a blank look, then said with a dramatic gesture towards himself, “Thees, _I'm_ a superhero, too.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't count! You're my little brother, first and foremost!”

“You really want me to tell you what Obscurus and I did?” Newt questioned, baffled. Theseus reeled back at that hesitantly.

“Well I mean... Not really.” Theseus admitted, suddenly nervous, “Like I said, you're my little brother first and foremost. I don't really want to know _what_ you're getting up to with anyone you fancy.”

“Then why are you even asking?” Newt huffed, dropping his hands to the table.

“Of course I want to know if my little brother is getting some!” Theseus claimed, eyebrows raising, “I just don't want to know the details, that's it.”

“Well, I didn't sleep with him.” Newt huffed, crossing his arms and looking away. After a beat, he added, “But I guess you could say I've... gotten to know him a little better?”

Theseus laughed, torn between slight disgust at the thought of his little brother getting intimate, and proud that his little brother was becoming a man. Ultimately, the pride won out, and he said to the teen, “I can't believe it. With _Obscurus_! I don't even want to imagine it.” He chortled, then opened the front door and called out, “My baby brother's growing up!”

“Theseus, shut up!” Newt huffed, but his brother only laughed louder as he left, closing the door behind him. Newt sat alone at the table now, flustered and embarrassed, but with Credence still on his mind.

With a hesitant glance upstairs to make sure his parents were coming down anytime soon, Newt whipped out his cell phone and started a new text to his boyfriend, fingers shaking as he typed the words.

Theseus huffed in amusement to himself as he walked to school. About halfway there, he spotted the mop of black hair belonging to the one and only Credence Barebone, and he hurried to catch up with him. He knocked shoulders with the boy, startling him at first, then earning a kind if not timid smile.

“I've been missing you for a while,” Theseus admitted, brows furrowed, “You can't just start walking to school with me and then disappear like that.”

“Sorry. I was sick yesterday,” Credence mumbled shyly, holding his brand new cell phone in his hand—one that Theseus was _still_ jealous of—and he glanced down at it when it buzzed with a new message. A more genuine smile crossed his lips as he read the message, then began to type back. Theseus watched the whole thing, interest sparking inside of him.

As soon as Credence was done with his message, Theseus asked slyly, “So, what's been going on lately? Anything you want to... talk about?”

Credence gave Theseus a strange look, and asked almost reluctantly, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I don't know...” Theseus rambled, glancing over when Credence got a new message, which brought on another bright smile, “Meet anyone interesting lately?”

“Not that I recall,” Credence mumbled, only barely paying attention as he typed out a response, biting back a chuckle. When he was done, he blinked and looked at Theseus, “Anything _you_ want to talk about?”

“Mmm.... no.” Theseus grinned, and when Credence got yet _another_ message, Theseus couldn't hold back. Much like he had done to Newt, Theseus snatched Credence's phone away with an interested “Who could _this_ be?” and despite Credence's loud protests, Theseus proceeded to embarrass his best friend and read the conversation aloud.

“Lizard emoji says he misses you today! How sweet!” Theseus cooed, holding the phone out of Credence's reach as he tried to snatch it back, “Oh! Looks like _someone_ 's planning to meet them tonight! But what's this? Lizard emoji wants to be...” He looked at Credence, grinning wide, “ _Alone_ with you tonight?”

“Theseus—stop!” Credence begged, looking absolutely panicked the more Theseus read, but the damned man didn't heed his warning.

“Lizard emoji wants to meet you on the rooftop of... the... library?” Theseus paused, glancing back at Credence curiously, “At midnight? Have you been breaking into the library to meet up with someone, Credence?”

“Give me back my phone!” Credence pleaded, but the phone buzzed with a brand new message, and the two men watched as a picture came through.

“No!” Credence yelped, trying one last time to grab his phone, but Theseus used his size to knock Credence back, staring at the picture with wide, incredibly angry eyes.

“That's....” Theseus whispered, and Credence knew he had been caught, “That's my _brother!”_ And with a shout, Theseus all but tossed the phone away, watching as Credence caught it and held it to his chest. “That's—That's my _brother!”_

“Theseus, it's not--” Credence began to say, trying to convince the man that this wasn't what it looked like, but Theseus was already pulling out his own phone and dialing a number, holding it up to his ear as it rang.

The second the line was picked up, Theseus shouted into the phone, “Credence Barebone?! Credence _fucking_ Barebone?!”

Credence cringed back, glancing down at the innocent image of Newt laying face-down in his bed, looking bored out of his mind. Looking back up, he found Theseus pacing madly, listening as Newt spoke on the other end of the line, only to explode moments later.

“Oh don't play dumb with me!” Theseus spat, face turning red from his boiling blood, “Your selfie is on his phone!”

Silence as Newt spoke, and Credence could only hold his breath and hope that whatever he was saying would work. He wasn't sure if they were trying to convince Theseus that they weren't together or if they were trying to convince him that it wasn't bad that they were, so he remained silent and continued to watch.

“I'm mad because you told me you were dating--” Theseus hesitated, glanced at Credence, then whispered into the phone a bit loudly, “ _Someone else!”_

Credence flushed, realizing what was on the line now. Newt must have told Theseus he was seeing Obscurus, and unless they wanted Theseus to think his little brother was unfaithful, Credence's identity would have to be revealed. In a rush, Credence typed out a message to Newt, quickly telling him to just tell Theseus the truth about Obscurus. He would rather be at risk than have Newt looked down on by his family for something that isn't true.

Looking up, Credence waited for the moment that Newt told Theseus. He could see the man's twisting in disbelief, could see him roll his eyes and shake his head, and then he said, “Don't lie to me, Newton. There's no way they're....” He fell silent, listening as Newt spoke, and then his brow furrowed and he looked up at Credence, who merely shrugged at him.

“You're not hanging up,” Theseus told Newt, and then he grabbed Credence by his arm and pulled him into the nearest alleyway, making sure it was completely devoid of people before he looked at Credence expectantly. Credence sighed, then fished out the pendant from his backpack and held it in his palm.

“Hallow, transform me.” He spoke and was swallowed up by the glow of his transformation. Moments later he stood there as Obscurus, peering up at Theseus from under his hood, nervous to see his reaction.

Theseus' phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor. His jaw hung wide open, his eyes just as big, and a high-pitched squeak was squeezed from his throat. Obscurus chewed on his bottom lip, then crouched down and picked up Theseus' phone, checking it over to make sure it wasn't broken before he said into the receiver, “I think I broke him.”

Newt huffed from his end, then mumbled, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sent you that picture.”

“No, it's okay, you couldn't have stopped him,” Credence comforted him, smiling a little, “Besides, you looked very cute.”

Newt laughed bashfully, then tried to change the subject by asking, “Is Theseus okay?”

“I... don't know. He's still staring at me.” Credence sighed, putting Newt on speaker before he transformed back into himself, seemingly breaking the spell Theseus was under. The older Scamander blinked repeatedly, then shook his head and covered his mouth with his hands.

“Theseus?” Newt asked from the phone hesitantly, “Everything okay?”

Theseus sucked in a shuddering breath, then claimed in exasperation, “No! No, it's not okay! You're... A-and _he's_...” Theseus gestured at Credence, then blurted out, “And you _slept_ with him!”

Credence's brows lifted in shock, and even though Newt was refusing that it happened, Credence remarked, “You told him that?”

“We didn't--!” Newt groaned, then said, “Okay, fine, yes, we did... stuff. And no, I didn't _tell_ him. He just... figured it out!”

“Yeah, and now I really wish I hadn't!” Theseus complained, clamping his hands over his head and squeezing, unable to process everything that he had just learned. And then, with a bitter stare, Theseus blurted out, “You tried to kill my brother!”

“Thees, that was forever ago,” Newt huffed, even though Credence turned his head away, guilty. “It's all water under the bridge. Besides, it wasn't even Obscurus, it was Grindelwald.”

Credence groaned and muttered, “I really don't want to talk about _him_ right now...”

“Right, of course, sorry,” Newt blurted, changing the subject, “Look, Theseus, you can't tell _anyone_ about this. I've been protected because no one knows I exist, but Credence goes to school with you. If anyone even suspects that he's Obscurus, it'll put us all in danger.”

Looking offended, Theseus claimed, “I wasn't going to tell anyone! I'm not an idiot!”

“Well, you _are_ the one with the Obscurus fan blog, Thees.” Newt mentioned fondly, and Credence blinked up at Theseus in surprise.

“You're ObscurusFan100?” He asked, amused, and Theseus only rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, so what? Don't let it inflate your ego or anything...” Theseus muttered moodily, and Credence blinked owlishly at him.

“No, it's just... Modesty loves your blog, actually,” Credence mentioned lightly, blushing a bit, “Sorry. I didn't mean it to sound like that.”

“Don't apologize to him, Credence, he's being a jerk,” Newt mentioned haughtily, making Theseus fume. “Look, why don't you bring Credence home after school? We can all sit down and talk about it?”

“Ugh, fine, but only because we're going to be late to school!” Theseus muttered, grabbing his phone back from Credence and muttering an irritated 'bye' before hanging up, “Come on, let's just... pretend like we didn't have this discussion until we get to my place...”

“Oh, uh... okay,” Credence agreed without a fight, following after Theseus and tucking his Miraculous back into his backpack. He needed to get a new chain for it, something more sturdy than the rope he had it on before.

They arrived at the school just in time. They split up and went to their classes, Theseus ignoring him even when Credence bid him a good day. They met again at lunch and sat with each other like usual, but Theseus still seemed hesitant to start a conversation with Credence. Credence didn't mind, though. He knew it was a lot to take in, especially since it concerned his little brother as well.

Unable to think of anything else to do, Credence said, “Theseus... Can I ask a favor from you?”

Theseus glanced at Credence nervously, but he shifted in his seat and said, “You can ask.”

“Okay, well... Please don't ask why, but... I'm not going to be here for the last period. I was wondering if you could turn in my homework for me?” Credence asked, already pulling the sheets out from his bag. Theseus' brows raised and he took the papers, but concerned was lining his features.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, and Credence smiled anxiously before he nodded.

“Yeah, just...” His smile turned into a grimace, and he muttered, “Family stuff, I guess.”

“Okay...” Theseus frowned more, then tucked Credence's homework into his own bag before mentioning, “You know... you _are_ still my friend. You can talk to me about anything.”

Credence smiled a little, then muttered, “Maybe not today. I don't want to give you a heart attack.”

“It can't be _that_ bad, can it?” Theseus snorted, and Credence's smile tightened.

“Thank you, Theseus. I'll find you by your locker after class?” He asked, changing the subject gracelessly. Theseus' concern only grew, but he didn't push it. He just nodded mutely and went back to eating.

Lunch ended shortly after, and they departed for their classes once more. Theseus sat through his lessons with his mind full of questions, and when he reached Professor Graves' classroom, he saw Credence hadn't been kidding. His desk was empty for the whole period, and Professor Graves looked even more irritated than usual. At the end of class, when Theseus tried to turn in Credence's homework for him, Professor Graves gave him a scathing look and all but snatched the work from his hands.

Theseus turned to leave, hesitating by the door for only a moment. He glanced back into the classroom and saw Professor Graves sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, looking... distraught. Theseus' curiosity only grew, but he didn't want to step over any lines with his Professor.

Reluctantly, he left Professor Graves to stew in his classroom and headed for his locker. When he spotted Credence, he smiled, and Credence returned the sentiment awkwardly.

“Should we go grab your sisters?” Theseus asked, but Credence shook his head no.

“Our foster parent has been picking them up from school. They'll be fine with him.” Credence said confidently, only to add, “Besides, I feel like this conversation we're about to have is going to be sort of... private.”

“Right...” Theseus sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “Man, I guess I just can't believe I never saw it before...”

“I've been doing this for a while. The only other person who knew until this year was Modesty.” Credence explained gently, looking weary, “And now it feels like everyone I know is aware of it...”

Theseus glanced at Credence with a frown, then asked, “Are you okay with that?”

Credence sighed, looking down at his feet, and mumbled honestly, “No. Not at all. I'm glad, of course—I don't feel like I have to hide anymore, especially with my sisters, but... The more they know, the more... The more Grindelwald has against them. Against me.”

Theseus put a hand on Credence's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly, then said, “Well, the more they know, the more people you have to support you, too. You're not alone in this, Credence.”

“Thanks...” Credence mumbled, giving Theseus a small smile, only to turn serious again, “But there are some things that I wouldn't dare put you guys at risk for. Not even Animagus...”

Theseus frowned deeply, concerned once more, and said, “You can't carry it all on your own.”

“I don't want anyone else to bear this with me...” Credence sighed, flinching when Theseus snorted.

“Okay, stop it. Let's wait until we get to my place so we can talk to Newt, too, okay?”

Smiling awkwardly, Credence nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

\------

Arriving back at the Scamander household, Theseus and Credence found Newt waiting for them on the couch, wearing his typical t-shirt and boxers. He perked up when they stepped in, and as soon as they were in the living room with him, he started, “Theseus, look--”

“I've had time to think about it, and I'm okay with it.” Theseus interrupted immediately, “I'm mad that neither of you told me,” He glared first at Newt, then at Credence, “But I understand. I guess.”

Newt blinked, then looked at Credence, lost. Credence only shrugged and smiled at him, joining him on the couch and taking his hand.

“We talked a little bit about it on the way here.” Credence said softly, “He isn't going to demand we break up.”

“Oh, thank God!” Newt sighed in relief, tilting his head back, “Sorry, I could handle standing up to your foster dad, but _not_ to my brother.”

Credence looked startled at that, blurting out, “You'd break up with me if Theseus asked you to?”

But Newt snorted and said, “No! Maybe pretend like I did in front of him, but not really.” He reassured Credence, kissing him on the lips, “Theseus is just a _lot_ more stubborn than Mr. Graves.”

“Wait—Mr. Graves?” Theseus blurted, and Credence cringed. Newt, with a wide-eyed, guilty look, flushed white.

“Oh—he didn't know about that, did he?” He asked in a small voice, and Credence silently shook his head no.

“You're living with Mr. Graves?” Theseus asked, and Credence sighed heavily.

“Yes. He's my foster parent.” He answered, “That's... why I wanted to skip his class.”

“Mr. Graves hit him the other day,” Newt spoke up, getting startled looks from both boys.

“He did what?” Theseus barked.

“How did you know that?” Credence inquired, and Newt gave him an apologetic look.

“Chastity told me.” He admitted, lifting a hand to gently brush the slowly healing bruise on his cheek, “She said she wanted to tell your social worker, but you told her not to. She felt like she needed to tell someone, though.”

“Why didn't you tell me you knew?” Credence asked next, catching Newt's hand and holding it to his cheek. Newt only shrugged.

“I figured you would tell me when you're ready. Plus, the worst thing someone can do to an injured animal is to poke at it. I figured humans would be the same.” Newt explained shyly, and despite Theseus' annoyed huff, Credence found himself smiling a little.

“Thank you...” He whispered, and Newt merely hummed and kissed him again.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Theseus cut in, waving his hands in the air, “You're telling me that Mr. Graves _hit_ you and you're letting him pick up your sisters alone?”

“He won't hurt them.” Credence said certainly, brows furrowed, “He loves them as much as I do. Besides, I deserved it.”

Newt immediately gasped out, “Don't say that!” while Theseus looked uncomfortable.

“Why would you think that?” Theseus questioned, and Credence slowly crossed his arms, uncomfortable.

“It's... not important--” Credence tried to avoid the questions, but Newt and Theseus refused to let it go.

“Credence, no matter what you've done, you _don't_ deserve to be hit.” Newt declared with Theseus supporting him.

Credence sighed heavily, then mumbled, “I... I got into an argument with him. I insulted him and told him that... that Newt and I weren't going to break up. He got upset and so he hit me. I was egging him on, though.”

Newt's eyes widened, looking absolutely starstruck, while Theseus cursed under his breath and muttered, “What a prick! You did nothing wrong!”

But before Credence could say another word, Newt was grabbing him by his cheeks and pulling him in for a long kiss, only breaking away to whisper, “I'm so sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” Credence breathed, blushing brightly from the intimacy, and only glancing at Theseus nervously to find the man had awkwardly looked away, “Besides, that's not what I'm upset with him for... Ma used to do worse.”

Theseus huffed and crossed his arms, then said, “Well, it looks like we're all on the same page now. Nothing else to reveal? Neither of you are secretly pregnant, right?”

Newt grinned and laughed a little bit, but Credence looked hesitant. When Theseus narrowed his eyes at the man, Credence took in a deep breath, then said, “I didn't want to bring this up just yet, but...” He looked at Newt, worried, “I think I know how we can find Grindelwald.”

 


	23. Chapter 22: Fly on the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pickin' back up!

Credence showed up to Percival's class the next day. He was hardly paying attention—as usual—but seeing him there was enough to put Percival's chaotic thoughts at ease. He taught his lesson in a much better emotional state than he had been just the day before. It was embarrassing, but he could tell that his students had noticed this, too. They were a lot more engaging than they had been yesterday.

A few times throughout his lecture, Percival saw Credence look at his phone, and then look at Theseus. He ignored Percival, which was fine. He expected it, anyways.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Credence and Percival remained in their seats and watched as the room emptied. Theseus cast Credence one last look, a touch of hesitancy, but he left without a word exchanged between them.

As soon as they were alone, Credence stood up from his desk. Percival tried to remain casual by leaning his hip against the front of his own desk, arms crossing over his front. Credence slowly approached, backpack in hand.

“The girls and I are going to Theseus' house.” Credence informed Percival, not even lifting his head to meet his gaze. Percival frowned, but he nodded anyways.

“Alright. Be home for dinner.” He instructed, and Credence's face pinched awkwardly.

“We will be.” He replied absently, turning away from Percival and leaving the room. Percival let out a long sigh, then turned away from his door and gathered up his things. He took a little bit longer since he didn't have to worry about grabbing the girls, but he arrived home within the hour nonetheless.

With the house empty and quiet, Percival felt his stomach drop in anxious anticipation. He wasn't sure if there was something wrong in his house or if he was just unused to the silence. Either way, he ignored it, and he set his things down in the entry closet.

He took three steps into the living room when a loud screech from behind him had him startling around, nearly falling flat on his ass if he didn't run into the back of the couch. Clinging to the ceiling hung a strange, scaly bird-like creature with a skeletal head and butterfly-esque wings. Its fangs were sharp and dripping with a tar-like substance, and its green-and-blue wings beat against the air.

“What the--!” Percival began to shout but was abruptly cut off when the creature practically vomited a thick, black residue at him, knocking him over the back of the couch with such force that Percival's head whipped backwards. The residue immediately hardened, cocooning Percival's torso and arms to the couch and rendering him immobile.

As soon as he was sure Percival wasn't going anywhere, Animagus transformed back into his human self, landing on the ground with a grunt. He sauntered over to the back of the couch and leaned over it with a grin, saying cheerily, “Talk about good aim!”

“Animagus?!” Percival spat out, enraged, and he struggled against the unbreakable containment he found himself in, already feeling the blood rushing out of his legs and to his head. “What are you doing?!”

“We need to ask you some questions,” Animagus explained lazily, glancing behind him with a smirk, “About a certain someone.”

Obscurus appeared then, looking just as irritated as he had the night he discovered his mother's portrait, and he got straight to business. “We know you know where Grindelwald is. Tell us.”

“What?!” Percival sputtered, staring incredulously at his son, “Are you insane? I don't know where that damned man is!”

“Don't lie to me.” Obscurus warned darkly, keeping their eyes locked, “You have to have some sort of clue where he is, and you're going to tell us exactly that.”

“Credence, let's think about this--” Percival tried to reason, but Obscurus all but snapped in rage. Using the shadows as arms, he all but slammed Percival's head backwards again, feeling his neck crack in protest.

“If the next words out of your mouth _aren't_ his location, I'll _break_ it.” Credence threatened. He could see Animagus taking a few hesitant steps back, obviously unsure, but if he wasn't going to stop him, then Credence wouldn't have to worry.

Percival, on the other hand, gurgled and squirmed. The moment Obscurus released him, he let out a wheezing gasp and began to cough. Obscurus at least had the decency to wait for him to catch his breath before demanding again, “Where. Is. He?”

“You're n-not ready for this, Credence--” Percival wheezed, eyes watering and bloodshot, “You can't face him like this! He'll— _urk_!” Again, his head was thrown back. His fingers splayed out where they were visible, trying to find something to grab, something to ground him, and his body strained to arch against the thick black goo holding him down.

“Credence...” Animagus whimpered, looking between Mr. Graves and his boyfriend, but all he saw was an angry animal attacking a defenseless intruder, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not knowing what else to do, Animagus grabbed Credence by his shoulder and said in a strong voice, “Credence, stop!”

He didn't expect for Credence's rage to turn on him. He certainly didn't expect the man to slam Animagus backwards, sending him to the floor and pinning him there. Now that his attention was on Newt, however, Percival was no longer at risk of having his neck broken or being choked to death.

“Stay out of this!” Obscurus demanded, white eyes wide and angry as he held his partner down, “He deserves what's coming to him!”

“No he doesn't!” Newt argued, then promptly gasped when Obscurus added pressure on him, as if he were leaning on him with his entire body. Choking to get the words out, Animagus reminded Obscurus, “We... need... him!”

Gritting his teeth, Obscurus yanked his shadows back, freeing Animagus and swallowing them back into his body. Animagus gasped and rolled onto his side, curling up into a ball as he tried to regulate his breathing. His ribs were practically screaming at him for the abuse, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that Obscurus wasn't about to do something he would regret.

“Please, Credence,” Percival gasped, eyes glistening, “You don't know what you're doing! Once he finds a way in your head, it's impossible to get him out! He's just going to use you again!”

Approaching the couch again, Credence declared, “If you have any respect left for Genevieve, you will tell me where he is.”

Percival sucked in a shaking breath, eyes wide. Obscurus kept his eyes firm and his scowl strong, and finally, the man relented. In a quiet, meek voice, Percival gave him an address. Animagus slowly got up from the floor, pulling out his phone and plugging in the address, then muttering, “It isn't far. Twenty minutes.”

“Good.” Obscurus mumbled, stepping away from the couch and saying, “Let's go.”

He left the house in seconds. Animagus took a breath before he moved to follow, only to freeze when Percival called out, “Animagus...” The hero looked over his shoulder, frowning at the sorry sight of Percival sitting upside-down on the couch, still held in place by the sticky black substance Animagus produced, “Please don't let him do this...”

“We have to stop Grindelwald,” Animagus argued, though he sounded far more apologetic than Obscurus did.

Percival gasped, a few thin tears running along his temples. He let his head fall back for a moment, then looked back at Animagus and instead requested, “Then don't let him do this alone. For God's sake, don't let Grindelwald take him.”

Animagus bit his bottom lip, then sighed and left him there without an answer, joining Obscurus outside of the house and transforming into a bird as Obscurus melted into smoke. They race alongside one another as they made their way to this place. Speeding through the air, neither hero had enough time to really think about what they were going up against. They couldn't, not really, not if they wanted to keep their nerve.

Upon arriving at their destination, Obscurus and Animagus regrouped just outside. They looked up at the tall, thin brownstone, sandwiched between two others like it. Animagus and Obscurus looked at one another, both hesitant to move forward, but this was what they had to do.

“Let's go,” Animagus said, stepping forward, but Obscurus stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Wait,” He said, meeting Animagus' eyes, “Maybe one of us should keep watch out here.”

Animagus blinked at him, then asked, “You want us to split up?”

“Yes. Just in case.” Obscurus said, looking serious, “If Grindelwald tries to run, one of us can be ready to catch him.”

Animagus squinted at him, then slowly crossed his arms and said, “And by one of us, you mean me.”

Obscurus pressed his lips into a line, and then immediately said, “I don't want you to get hurt.”

“That's such a load!” Animagus claimed, throwing his hands down at his sides, “I'm strong enough to handle myself in there! I fought you off, didn't I?”

Obscurus gave Animagus a nervous frown, then said, “I would have killed you if you didn't kiss me.”

“I only kissed you because I didn't want to hurt you,” Animagus fumed, adding haughtily, “And I'm not going to go in there and start making out with Grindelwald! We're partners, Obscurus. Let's do this _together_.”

Sighing deeply, Obscurus said, “Please, Animagus...” He approached the shorter man, putting his hands on Animagus' arms and holding him close, “You mean too much to me... I don't want him to hurt you.”

“And you don't think I'd care if you got hurt?” Animagus complained, grabbing Obscurus by the front of his shirt, “If we're going up against Grindelwald, I want to be by your side every last second.”

“Then be by my side by being ready for him if he runs,” Obscurus suggested, letting go of Animagus and heading for the front door. Animagus sighed as he watched him go, then shook his head and turned away, looking up and down the empty streets while Credence sneaked into the house behind him. He heard his partner whisper into shadow and slip inside, waited all but a minute, then transformed into a billywig and zipped towards the window.

Slipping inside, Animagus crept through the decrepit and dusty home until he spotted Obscurus standing on the staircase, looking around quietly, completely alone. Newt his close to the ceiling, watching his young lover as he slowly crept through the home.

Obscurus reached the top of the staircase and peered into a few doorways. He seemed uninterested in every one of them until he reached the master bedroom. He paused in the doorway for a long moment, simply staring inside, and only stepped inside when he seemed to remember how to breathe.

Animagus followed him inside as silently as he could, hanging close to the ceiling still. The master bedroom, much like the rest of the abandoned brownstone, was lined with dust. The four-poster bed sat in the corner of the room, the sheets torn apart and moth-eaten and the wood swollen at the feet from moisture. Hanging above the stone-lined fireplace was a portrait, a hole torn in the bottom of it, but the face remarkably untouched. Obscurus walked towards this woman's portrait, completely entranced, and stopped just below it. He stared up at her silently, moving only to push his hood off of his head, and let out a slow sigh.

“I certainly wasn't expecting you to find me here,” A strong, charismatic voice echoed through the room, startling not only Obscurus into turning around, but Animagus as well. While Animagus didn't know who this pale blond man was, Obscurus looked more than surprised, recognition filling his eyes.

“You...” He whispered, taking a few steps towards this strange man, “You're the man from the alleyway. You were robbed.”

Chuckling the stranger slowly nodded his head. “Yes. That was me.” He confirmed clasping his hands behind his back with a smug grin, obviously confident of himself in this situation, “The hobbling, ill homeless man that stole a few strands of hair was also me.”

Obscurus' hand jerked up to his scalp as if he were reliving the moment, and then he did something that Animagus never thought he would. He stepped forward and transformed back into Credence.

Grindelwald's brows raised, just as surprised, but he didn't mention it. Instead, he held out his hand and asked, “I believe you have something of mine?”

In a trance, Credence reached into his pocket and produced the brooch and pin. He held it in his grip for a long moment, and instead of handing it over, he turned to look back to the portrait of the woman. Animagus looked as well, finding that this woman seemed to be wearing the very same accessory that Credence now had.

“This was her Miraculous... wasn't it?” Credence asked in a quiet voice, and Grindelwald's smile slowly faded. His hand lowered once more, watching as Credence looked back at him, “You killed her for this.”

Immediately, Grindelwald scoffed. “I see Percival has fed you his lies,” He claimed, sticking his nose into the air and striding forward, standing beside Credence to look over the very same portrait, “Tell me, did he also mention your paternal lineage?”

“He did,” Credence confirmed, holding onto the brooch and pin tighter, “And he told me how I came to be. How he raped my mother and forced her to bear me.”

“Then you also know that it was because of him that you and I were torn apart,” Grindelwald stated, and Animagus couldn't believe what he was hearing. Slowly, the two of them turned to face one another. Slowly, Grindelwald lifted a hand and brushed it against Credence's cheek. Then, with a smile, Grindelwald whispered, “How long I've awaited this day, Credence... I swore I would tear Manhattan down brick by brick until I had you in my arms. And now, here you are. My boy. My _son_.”

Credence shuddered, but he leaned into Grindelwald's touch regardless. He found his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment, and then he remembered just who this man was, and he took a few quick steps back. “You're not my father,” He declared, but Grindelwald seemed unfazed.

“Father, uncle, it's all a big technicality.” He pooh-poohed quickly, “What matters is that we're _family_ , Credence. My blood is in your veins. I _created_ you, I ensured your existence! If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be standing here today!” He claimed, approaching Credence quickly and cupping his face with both hands, looking into his eyes adoringly. “Oh, my son, the things I have done to find you... Only to have you come home to me...”

“Stop!” Credence huffed, pushing Grindelwald off of him and scowling, “I know what you want! You just want Genevieve's Miraculous so that you can go back to terrorizing Manhattan! I came here to stop you, Grindelwald!”

What was meant to be an intimidating threat only made the mad-man laugh. Such a reaction served to make Credence flush in embarrassment and duck his head down. “Oh, you definitely have his fire, don't you? His passion? His _spark_?” He approached again, almost dancing around Credence as he examined him up and down, joyously mentioning, “But you have her beauty. Her finesse. Her demure behavior.”

He approached Credence from behind, grabbing his by his chin and jerking his head up, and he hissed out, “You are just as weak as they were. Just as fragile,” Jerking his head back, to the point of making Credence's knees wobble, Grindelwald growled, “I could break you in half like a toothpick right now if I so wanted. So many vulnerabilities. So many ways to hurt you...”

And then, in a sudden change of heart, Grindelwald let go of him and instead pulled him into a tender hug, stroking his hair, and declared, “But it will be alright, yes. Strength can be learned. Reinforced. You have potential, Credence. Deep, deep down inside. Something that I can help you achieve.”

“In exchange for her Miraculous?” Credence huffed, struggling out of Grindelwald's grip and putting much-needed distance between them. The blond man frowned, allowing Credence to escape, then began to shake his head.

“I do not need that _toy_. Not anymore.” He claimed, his eyes growing soft, “You misunderstand me, don't you? I only ever wanted to find you, Credence. All of these things I did, all of it was to force Seraphina and the girls to give you back to me. I tried to use Percival, but he was too easily convinced. He turned his back on me—on _us_. On our _family_. He gave up on you when I never did.”

Credence hesitated once again, glancing down at the brooch and pin, and Grindelwald immediately scoffed. “If it concerns you so much, then keep her damned Miraculous! It was only a ruse to bring you to me, Credence. Only a test to make sure that you were bold enough to bear the family name!”

Startled, Credence asked, “You're... giving it to me?”

“Yes! Do whatever you'd like with it! Use it, give it away, I don't care!” Grindelwald claimed, throwing his hands out, in a minor fit of annoyance, then implored, “Just come back to me, my dear son. Let me have what those traitors refused me. Let me have my family again.”

Shaking, Credence looked down at the brooch and pin. He seemed overcome by emotion, both hopeful and torn, and when it seemed like he was never going to answer, Grindelwald whispered, “I have been patient for seventeen years. I can be patient for a little bit longer.” Approaching Credence, Grindelwald set his hands on his shoulders and said to him, “I will wait until your eighteenth birthday for your decision. Until then... my home is open to you.”

He brought Credence in, tenderly kissed his temple, and whispered something else in his ear, something Animagus couldn't hear. When Credence slowly nodded, Grindelwald pulled away and, with a snap of his fingers, vanished completely from the room. Credence stood there for a few minutes after, and then he tucked the brooch and pin into his pocket, reformed back into Obscurus, and headed for the front door.

Animagus squeaked in a panic. He rushed out the window and zipped for the staircase just outside the door, popping back into his human form with a gasp just in time for Obscurus to open the door. Panting, Animagus turned to face his partner and asked, “W-well?”

“Empty,” Obscurus said dully, sounding much too genuine for Animagus to be comfortable, “Doesn't look like anyone's been here in years. I guess I was on the wrong track....”

Animagus held his breath for a long moment, hoping that Credence would break and spill the truth, hoping that Credence would change his mind and confide in him, but after too long of a pause, Obscurus announced that they should be getting back to the Scamander household.

And, with much reluctance, Animagus decided to pretend like he didn't know what Credence was hiding.

 


	24. Chapter 23: I cant think of a chapter name SOMEONE GIVE ME A CHAPTER NAME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> explicit content! Do not read past Newt using Evanesco if you want to remain innocent!

Animagus went to Credence's home while Credence went back to Theseus' to pick up his sisters. Neither of them asked what Credence and Newt had been doing, already putting the pieces together. What must have been more confusing was why Credence wanted them to stay with Theseus instead of at home.

When Newt arrived at Percival's residence, he quickly dissolved the gloop holding Percival to the couch and eased him back upright. The man didn't say a word past a meek thanks as he wobbled to and fro, adjusting to the sudden relocation of blood in his system.

While Percival adjusted, Newt cleaned up his mess, righting toppled furniture, picking clean any stray globs of his residue, and making sure Percival didn't look too mussed. The older man watched him quietly as he worked, rubbing his temples with his fingertips, and when Animagus seemed done and satisfied with his work, he called out to him.

“Animagus...” He whispered, voice rough. The hero paused, hesitating by the door, but he didn't turn around this time. He just kept his head forward and his ears open. “Was he... Was he there?”

Animagus shifted on his feet, argued with himself between telling the truth or playing dumb, and he eventually decided that, until Credence told him, he would know nothing.

“It was empty.” He said, bowing his head, “Sorry for the mistake. We thought you would know...”

Percival let out a breath, sounding more... disappointed than Animagus would have thought him to be, but eventually muttered, “Well... that's good, then.”

Animagus hummed, then informed him, “Credence and the girls are on their way back. You might want to get dinner started if you want to keep up the charade.”

“Right. Thanks.” Percival grunted, slowly getting up from the couch and getting to work while Animagus fled the house, intent on returning home and mulling things over.

He arrived in his bedroom just in time for Theseus to burst in, asking in a rushed whisper, “Was he there? Did you find him? What happened? Credence didn't say a word!”

“It was empty,” Newt said as he transformed back into his every-day self, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the ground, “No sign of him at all. We were on the wrong track.”

Theseus didn't respond immediately. He only looked at his brother, really studied him, and in a hesitant manner, he asked, “Are you.... sure?”

With a deep, loud sigh, Newt flopped onto his bed and groaned into his pillow, “Yes. Credence checked the place top to bottom. Guess it looked abandoned.”

“Guess?” Theseus echoed, sitting beside his prostrate brother, “You mean _you_ didn't look?”

“No,” Newt huffed, turning his head away from Theseus, desperate to hide his lie, “Credence wanted to me stay outside in case Grindelwald was there and tried to escape. I'm the only one that can transform into a gigantic octopus at will, you know.”

Theseus hesitated again, obviously not buying it, and he asked, “So Credence went inside while you waited outside.... And you didn't go in at all?”

“That's what 'waited outside' means, doesn't it?” Newt replied harshly, boxing his pillow into a more comfortable shape so he could burrow his face in it, promptly cutting off his own air supply until he turned his head to the side, “He went in, I waited outside, he told me it was empty, and we left.”

“So... you didn't search the place at all?”Theseus asked _again_ and Newt all but groaned in aggravation.

“Are you even listening to me right now?” Newt questioned, turning to look at Theseus dead on, which was the worst mistake he could make. Caught under Theseus' gaze, his brother analyzed him intently, and Newt knew he was caught.

“Why are you lying to me? Was he there or not?” Theseus asked, brows furrowed, and Newt tried to turn away even though he had already been caught.

“Obscurus said--”

“I didn't _ask_ what Obscurus said, I _asked_ if Grindelwald was at the place or not?” Theseus interrupted, getting a bit more heated and making Newt cringe away.

“Thees--”

“It's a yes or no question, Newton!” Theseus argued, and Newt finally gave in.

“Yes! Yes he was there and yes I saw him but Credence, he--” Newt felt himself begin to tear up, and awkwardly cursed under his breath as he tried to fight back his frustration, “I d-don't know what to do! I can't tell him what I saw b-because he _told_ me to stay outside but _God_ , Thees, I just—I just don't know what to do!”

“What happened?” Theseus asked again, far more gentle than moments ago now that he had the truth coming from his brother, and when Newt only replied with a gasping sob, he pulled him into a tight hug and said, “Tell me, Nutty Newty.”

“Shut up,” Newt huffed, but the childhood nickname pulled a laugh from the boy and did much to calm him down long enough to explain.

It felt like it was all in one breath like it was over in seconds and yet took hours to describe, but Newt confided what he saw and heard to Theseus, even telling him with a heavy dose of hesitancy, “Mr. Graves is his dad, Thees. And Grindelwald, he said he was his _uncle_. And Credence _knew_. I don't get it—why would he know that? He _told_ me he didn't know who his parents were. He _told_ me he didn't have a family other than the girls. Why would he lie about that to me? What else is he lying about?”

“Newt--” Theseus began to say, but Newt interrupted with the last thing he remembered, the strangest thing out of the whole day, the bomb.

“And he had another Miraculous! Another thing like this,” Newt held up his pocket watch, and Theseus looked startled, “He said it was his mother's, that Grindelwald had it before!” Newt paused, a thought popping into his head, and he asked aloud, “Is that why he hasn't been attacking lately? Because he lost his Miraculous?”

“But you said he claimed he didn't need it anymore,” Theseus reminded him, and Newt frowned in confusion, thinking about it some more.

“Then does he plan on... turning himself in? Or running?” Newt thought aloud, tapping the end of his chin, “He _did_ say the only reason why he was doing what he was doing was to find Credence.... and now that he's found him...”

“He wouldn't turn himself in. That wouldn't make any sense—why would he give up right after finding his nephew? But if he runs... then he'd take Credence with him.” Theseus mentioned and Newt's eyes widened.

“Credence wouldn't just go with him... would he?” Newt asked nervously, but Theseus couldn't answer that.

He did, however, say, “He has been alone all his life... If this man really is the last family member he has left...”

Newt shuddered, suddenly wracked with fear and heartbreak, and he stammered out, “H-he wouldn't just leave his sisters like that. He wouldn't leave _me_ like that. Credence wouldn't....”

“Newt...” Theseus whispered, easily recognizing the strike of panic his brother was experiencing. When Newt began to hyperventilate, Theseus leaned forward and grabbed his brother by the arms, pulling him until he was sitting at the edge of his bed with his legs set wide, and he had him double over at the waist. “Breathe, Newt. Nice and slow. In nice and deep, there you go. One, two...”

He used to get these attacks at school when he was being targeted by the freshmen class when Leta Lestrange was an issue. Theseus remembered finding Newt in the men's bathroom once, curled up around a toilet and dry-heaving into it. It had terrified him then, and it was still scary now, thinking that his brother was going through something neither of them could really control. It made Theseus feel weak, like a bystander, although he couldn't even think to imagine how Newt was feeling right now.

“He has to tell me. He's going to tell me.” Newt grunted thickly, and Theseus slowly rubbed his back in circles, trying to soothe the attack away. “He wouldn't just leave...”

“And if he tries, I'll kick his ass,” Theseus said, earning a weak laugh from his brother, “Come on, Newt. Maybe he has his secrets, but he loves you. You're his world, aren't you?” When Newt didn't respond immediately, Theseus clicked his tongue and stated, “Alright. That's it. No more worrying. When you worry about it, you'll only suffer twice. Come on,” He grabbed Newt by the hands and pulled him to his feet, despite the wobbly way he swayed, then said, “Jumping jacks. Ten. Go.”

“M-mom's going to be angry—” Newt tried to argue, but Theseus interrupted him with a sharp, 'ah!'

“I said no worrying! Come on! Ten jumping jacks and I want to see those arms move!” Theseus instructed, and although Newt didn't feel like he could handle even one jumping jack right now, he persisted.

The more Newt got his blood pumping from the exercise, the less daunting Credence leaving him felt. Soon his panic attack was going from a six to a two, and he was able to breathe and think again without choking back bile. As soon as the ten jumping jacks were done, Newt plopped down onto his bed with a huff, relieved. Theseus sat beside him, looking stern. “Don't worry about it anymore, Newt. Text him tonight. Tell him you love him, that no matter what, you'll always be there for him. Maybe he's just.... scared. Hell, if _I_ was related to Grindelwald, I wouldn't want anyone else to know. Would you?”

Newt sighed, tilting his head back, then shook it, “No. I guess you're right.”

“I am right.” Theseus smirked, cocky even under Newt's scrutinizing glare, “Text him. It'll be okay.”

With a small smile, Newt muttered, “Thanks, Thees.”

“No problem, Nutty Newty.” He replied, giving his brother a kiss on his sweaty temple, then grunting in distaste, “How can you be so out of shape if you're a hero?”

Newt only answered with a bright laugh.

\--------

Credence laid back on his bed, one arm tucked behind his head and the other holding the brooch and pin aloft. He studied the family coat of arms closely, examined even the opalescent butterfly pin, and read and re-read the engraving on the back. He thought about the words Grindelwald whispered into his ear, thought about what he could do with his mother's Miraculous, then sighed. He wasn't sure _what_ to do with it, honestly. He didn't want it, he already had a Miraculous of his own. He wasn't interested in power or changing who he was. He was Obscurus, through and through. He didn't want to be anyone else.

There was a knock on his door, and Credence lowered his arm enough to see Chastity step inside. She looked uncomfortable, maybe a little worried, but ultimately apologetic, and she muttered a quiet, “Credence...? Can I... talk to you?”

“Of course,” Credence said, pushing himself up from his bed and making room for his sister, letting her sit beside him so he could put an arm around her.

“I'm... sorry about yelling at you the other day,” Chastity sighed, staring down at her lap, “And I'm sorry for telling Newt about it—and I know you know. He told me you know.”

Credence smiled a little and hugged her tighter. Chastity wasn't done, though, “It's just... sometimes I get worried about you, Credence. I know you're doing all of this to try to protect us, but... I don't _want_ you to.”

“What do you mean?” Credence asked with a frown, watching as Chastity's face twisted as she tried to fight back tears.

“I mean... I love you, Credence. You're the only older brother I'd ever want... but you doing all of this, going out and fighting and getting hurt.... you're going to _die_ one day, Credence.” Chastity warned, looking genuinely scared, “I appreciate that you want to keep us safe, but you can't do that if you're gone. And.... And I don't want you to go. I want you to be _here_. With me and Modesty.”

“Chastity...” Credence sighed, his brows furrowing, “You don't understand. What I'm doing... it's my responsibility. Obscurus needs to keep Manhattan safe, just like I need to keep you two safe. Sometimes I can't be here because of that, but....”

He frowned, an idea coming to mind, and he muttered, “Wait...” as he looked down at the brooch and pin still in his hand. The idea, no matter how dangerous, was something that Credence knew he had to do, to show Chastity that he meant her well and that her well-being was the top priority. What else could a brother do but make sure his sister had to tools to fight for herself if she needed to?

“I want to give you this.” He decided, holding out the brooch and pin so Chastity could see. The girl's eyes widened and sparkled at the sight, and she slowly picked it up and stroked the metal, “I... I found something out, today. I found the family I was born into... And that family had this,” He pointed to the brooch, “as their coat of arms.”

“Credence,” Chastity breathed, looking at her brother.

“I wanted to keep it, the coat of arms, my family name.... but it's not the family I belong to anymore. And I want to make sure that the family I belong to _knows_ that they belong with me, too.” He squeezed Chastity, smiling a little, “You're my family, Chastity. And I want you to have this so you can remember that. And.... and so that if anything happens, anything at all... you'll have this to protect you.”

Chastity fell silent when she realized exactly what Credence was saying. Her smile slowly fell, but Credence went on anyways, saying, “All you have to do is hold it close, call out its name, and ask it to transform you. Its name is here,” He turned the brooch around in her hand, exposing the engraved backside, “So you don't forget.”

Chastity blinked, still quiet, but she folded her fingers over the brooch and pin anyways. Slowly, quietly, she said to Credence, “You just don't understand me, Credence.”

Credence frowned, watching as Chastity got up from his bed and headed to his door. “Chastity,” He called out after her, but she left him without another word, closing his door behind her. Credence huffed, staring at the door and wondering what he did wrong.

He wasn't pulled out of his thoughts until his phone chimed with a new text message. Picking it up, he saw it was from Newt, and he opened up the message with a touch of curiosity. Inside, it read, “You know I love you don't you?”

Credence smiled and settled back on his bed, curling up around his cell phone and replying, “I love you too.”

“I'm sorry we didn't find Grindelwald today. I know how much you wanted to put all of this behind you.” Newt soon said, and Credence could only sigh as he considered it.

Curiously, Credence asked him, “If I stopped, would you stop, too?”

Newt didn't respond for a few minutes. He must have been thinking about it. Credence got comfortable in his bed, ready to sleep, and waited for Newt's text. When it came, Credence read it unenthusiastically, uncertain what he would discover.

“I don't know tbh,” Newt admitted, followed closely by another text, “but if I did or didn't, it wouldn't change how I feel about you.”

Credence felt himself flush, his cheeks tingling with heat that he was glad Newt wasn't there to see. Shyly, he typed back, “Even if I gave up on being Obscurus you would want to be with me?”

"Of course! No questions asked.” Newt replied quickly, followed by a torrent of messages, "When I first met you under the mask, I even liked you then!" He claimed, “Look," He sent, "No matter what you're called by everyone else, no matter who people think you are, as long as you're you, as long as you're my Credence, I will always want to be with you.”

Credence squirmed where he lay, unable to process his words quietly. Clenching his jaw, curling up into a ball, then chewing on his bottom lip, Credence felt like his chest was going to burst with emotion. Desperately, Credence jolted up from his bed and texted Newt, "I need to see you, please, let me come see you.”

He was already changing into jeans and a sweater as he waited for Newt to reply and when his phone did buzz, he read the message with a frown.

"Shoot, wait, don't come over, my parents aren't sleeping yet.”

But then, just a Credence forlornly shucked off his sweater, another text came through, and Credence grinned.

"But give me ten and I'll find you on the library roof?” Newt suggested, and Credence could barely contain himself.

"I'll be waiting," Credence wrote back, leaving his bedroom in a ball of smoke through the window. He arrived at the rooftop not even ten minutes later, and he paced the space impatiently until Newt arrived on wings. The second he transformed back into a human, Credence was on him, kissing him deeply, enjoying the deep hum that came from him, deep in the back of his throat.

"Do you mean it?" Credence gasped, although he barely gave Newt the time to respond as he pulled him in for even more kisses, "What you said? Mean it?”

Newt moaned against his lips, finding Credence's waist with his hands, sliding them under his shirt, feeling his skin. "Every word,” Newt promised him, brushing their noses together as he turned his head for a better angle to kiss him at. Credence sucked in a shaking breath, kissed him one last time, then gently cupped his face in his hands.

With a touch of vulnerability in his eyes, Credence whispered to Newt, “I... I want to share something with you...”

Newt's eyes absolutely lit up, a number of things Credence could mean flickering in his mind, and he said with confidence, “Whatever it is, I want to share it, too.”

Credence blushed, a small smile tugging at his lips, then admitted, “Although... I'm not sure a rooftop is the best place for... this.”

“We can go somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anywhere you'll feel comfortable.” Newt promised, moving his hands even higher up Credence's shirt, settling just below his ribs.

Credence chewed on his bottom lip. He couldn't bring them back to _his_ place, the girls were there. And Newt already said that they couldn't go to the Scamander household because his parents were still awake. Nowhere else was coming to mind, however, and Credence absolutely did not whimper.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Newt cooed, a fond smile appearing on his face, “Hey, it's okay. Let's just take a minute--”

“But I want--” Credence began to complain, but Newt kissed him silent.

“Do you trust me?” Newt suddenly asked, and Credence felt a shiver shoot up his spine.

“Yes,” He told him, not even pausing. Newt, however, seemed uncertain. He looked between Credence's eyes, tried to find any hint of doubt there, and to convince him further, Credence kissed him deeply and whispered, “I trust you with my life...”

Newt bit his lip, and then asked, “With even your deepest, darkest secrets?”

“The deepest,” Credence affirmed, and this time, he could see the doubt clearly in his blue eyes. Frowning, Credence asked, “Newt? What's the matter?”

Newt sucked in a breath, then closed his eyes and stammered, “I-I... want to try something. To give us... privacy.”

Credence looked interested while Newt covered up his lie by deflecting. Credence stroked Newt's cheeks, looking into his eyes, and asked, “I'll try it. I trust you.”

Newt took in a slow breath, then mumbled, “I hope you do...” before he gave him a brief kiss, “If you change your mind, just tell me to stop.”

Credence nodded, although he didn't think he would change his mind at all, but he began to doubt himself when Newt, still as Animagus, whispered, “ _Evanesco.”_

Darkness engulfed him, hiding Newt from him, and Credence tried not to wail at the loss. Even Newt's hands vanished from under his shirt, but he could hear him walking, could feel the slightest brush of his hand on his shoulders or back. And then, in a deep, heady whisper directly against his neck, “Private enough?”

“I can't see you,” Credence whined, although he didn't really mean to. He could feel Newt's laugh against his skin, soft and breathy, and then the touch of lips along his nape.

“You don't need to, you know I'm here,” Newt reassured him, wrapping his arms around Credence's middle and peppering his nape, neck, and shoulders with kisses.

“But...” Credence sighed, tilting his head back with his eyes shut, even though it wouldn't have mattered. He could feel Newt's hands on his stomach, one pushing his shirt up, the other undoing the front of his jeans. Credence groaned as Newt fondled him, and the only complaint he could force out now was, “C-can't stand...”

Newt chuckled, slowly lowering the both of them to the ground, invisible to Credence still. With gentle and guiding hands, Newt pushed Credence onto his knees and elbows, tugging his pants further down while his shirt bunched up around his armpits. Credence wailed pitifully until Newt was stroking his body in one way or another, with his hands, his lips, his own form, it didn't matter to Credence. All that he wanted was Newt on him, touching him.

“Spread these a bit more,” Newt instructs, tapping Credence's thighs, and the man can only obey. “Perfect.” He kissed Credence's lower back, then pulls mostly away, although a hand remains on Credence's hip. “Gorgeous,” He mumbles wetly, and Credence all but trembles.

Credence could feel a finger running along the space between his legs, following the length of his shaft, then fondling the head. Credence's hips jolted forward as he moaned aloud, and Newt whispered, “Relax, that's it...” His hand was wet with saliva, practically dripping with it, and the precum that leaked from Credence was only making things slicker. Soon, a thick, slippery noise began to ring in their ears.

When Newt pulled away, Credence groaned defeatedly, jerking his hips backwards until he heard Newt chuckle at him. “Hold on,” He urged, the shuffle of Newt's clothes behind him the only warning he got before thick, warm flesh was sliding against his own.

Credence gasped aloud, blushing when Newt prompted him to squeeze his thighs together. As soon as he did, as soon as he added that pressure to where Newt was slotted between his thighs, skin kissing Credence's arousal, the younger teen let out a slow, pleasured sigh.

“Newt,” Credence gulps, jolting when he felt the teen pull back and then promptly slide back in place. His body trembled and he reached a hand down, feeling the tips of their lengths against his palm, and gushing just a bit when Newt slid out then in again.

“Good?” Newt asked breathlessly, and Credence could only nod his head and whisper for more, unable to get enough air to really work out a full sentence. Newt smiled against the skin of his shoulder blade, placed a few stray kisses, and then began to roll his hips in earnest. He found a steady rhythm, not too fast yet not too slow, and he kept at it valiantly. The pleasure throbbed in Credence's veins, escaping his body in the wetness from his groin and the whimpers and moans from his throat. In an attempt to return the pleasure, Credence would roll his hips back or press his thighs tighter together, flexing his muscles until he could feel Newt's fingers dig into the skin on his hips.

Hearing the younger man grunt and keen every once in a while was just as thrilling as when Newt sped his movements up for a few short thrusts. Credence lowered his upper body until he was chest-to-floor, although he didn't relent his own movements as he tried to return the pleasure. He could feel Newt's nails biting into his skin, slowly dragging down along his hips, and even though it stung something fierce and Credence knew he would feel it in the morning, at that moment, the sensation made Credence's body jolt and shudder.

“N-Newt... Newt...” Credence panted out, reaching behind him blindly, not even knowing what he was trying to grab onto until Newt's fingers were twining with his, locking them together at another point on their bodies.

“J-just a little...” Newt panted, curling forward until his head was touching Credence's back, although the jerky movements of his hips didn't cease, “L-little... _mm—_ more...”

Credence burst. He couldn't last, not with the way Newt's body was rocking against his, the way the pleasure was practically suffocating him, overwhelming him until he was spilling over, splattering on the concrete rooftop. His jaw hung open in a silent cry, his vision all but whiting out as his hips twitched forward. He could feel Newt slow, and although his body was trembling with hypersensitivity, he whimpered almost desperately, “D-don't stop... Please... Want to f-feel...”

Newt kissed his shoulder lovingly, and with a gasp, he resumed his shaky thrusts. Credence bit down on his bottom lip, the pleasure turned uncomfortably painful, and his body protested with little spasms and slight jolts. Newt still pressed on, unrelenting, until he, too, was reaching his release. With a gasp of Credence's name, Newt's body curled forward and his mess joined Credence's on the ground. As he struggled to catch his breath, he wrapped his arms around Credence's middle and rested his head between his shoulder blades. Credence had begun to shiver, the sweat coating his skin cooling in the breeze. Slowly, just as slowly as Newt came down, the darkness from Newt's _Evanesco_ faded.

As soon as he could see, Credence turned his head and looked back at his boyfriend, smiling a little when Newt met his eyes and blushed underneath his mask. A few seconds later, Newt was dropping his hero persona and pulling away from Credence, pushing the man onto his back and laying overtop him. He gave him a few soft kisses, earning a smile each time, then lazily rested his head against Credence's shoulder.

“I love you,” Newt breathed against Credence's collarbone, slowly smoothing out Credence's shirt, giving him at least a little more decency as they laid there exposed. Credence hummed softly, wrapping an arm around Newt and kissing the top of his head. Newt closed his eyes, then clung onto the front of Credence's shirt tightly. In a trembling voice, Newt whispered, “I'd do anything for you...”

Credence sighed softly, stroking Newt's back, and he replied gently, “I'd do anything for you, too, Newt. Anything I could to keep you safe.”

They shared one last kiss, then began to right their clothes, blushing at one another and sharing embarrassed laughs. They whispered their goodbyes before heading back to their respective homes, both of them with more on their minds than they had before.

 


	25. Chapter 24: The Climax is Approaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are all enjoying this! Please leave a comment guys, I love seeing what you're all thinking!
> 
> Brief reference to rape again, very non-descript.

Credence found his mother's Miraculous in his bedroom trash can a few days later. The girls had left with Percival to school while Credence was in the shower. Chastity must have thrown it away then, making sure Credence didn't see her do it, but would see it in the end anyways.

He picked the Miraculous up from the trash and smoothed his thumb over the coat of arms. He didn't know how to take it, wasn't sure what to do about it. In the end, he merely brought it back to Modesty and Chastity's room, setting the brooch and pin on Chastity's desk. Not in the center where it would be obvious, but tucked in amongst her pens and school books.

Standing there, Credence took a moment to look over Chastity's things. Her books, notebooks, binders, sat organized and clean. She had a photograph in the corner of herself, Credence, and Modesty. It was something she had taken with her phone when she first got it, so they were all just a little bit younger than now. Credence was grey and thin, Modesty sad, and Chastity excited, with just a touch of worry in her eyes. They had gotten far from then with Percival as their foster father. Although Credence may not personally trust the man, he knew that Percival was good for his sisters, even good for him.

Credence lifted a hand and rubbed at his cheek, the bruise faded. It still stung, not in a physical way, but in a personal, emotional way. It made his chest burn and his stomach flop the more he thought about it, but he couldn't ignore the facts. Percival had saved them from Mary Lou's neglect. Even if he had lifted his hand to Credence, the Barebones owed their lives to him. Credence owed his life to him.

He didn't want to forgive Percival. He didn't think he really could. But, just like he had already planned, he could survive under this roof with more ease than he had under Mary Lou's control. He just had to convince his sisters of that.

He left only minutes after. He would be late if he stayed any longer.

He arrived at school on time, though he had been too late to walk with Theseus. He didn't mind so much, he had a lot on his mind. He was so absorbed in his own mind that he didn't realize he had been followed until he was stepping through the school gates and was promptly checked by his shadow.

Credence grunted as his schoolbag was knocked from his shoulder, spilling on the asphalt. He looked up for a brief moment, curious as to who his tormentor might be. He only saw a crowd of people, however, ignoring him as they walked on by. He didn't think much of it, figured someone was merely in a rush and began to collect his books. He only looked up again on an impulse, on some deep, instinctual urge, and saw the retreating back of blond hair. A glint of silver as the man looked over his shoulder, and Credence felt his nerves rise.

He was reminded all at once about Grindelwald and the offer he had for him. He was reminded just as quickly that Grindelwald was the very man who constantly attacked Manhattan, assumed control over Credence and tried to kill Newt through him. This was his enemy and his uncle, the last family member Credence knew other than Percival. The only man he could rightfully go to.

The school bell rang, so Credence hurried and packed away his things, then rushed onto the campus, running his way towards his first period. He made it just as the professor began her lecture, although he didn't escape her scathing glare. Luckily, nothing came of it, and Credence was allowed to take his seat without further punishment.

Or so he thought.

Third period came when his name was announced over the speakers, bidding him to report to the administration office.

Credence immediately felt his face flush, especially when his class began to teasingly croon at him, watching as he gathered up his things and hurried out. The back of his neck was absolutely burning now, and even if he was alone now in the empty hallways of his school, he felt like the whole school was scrutinizing him. And, to make it worse, he had to pass by Percival's classroom on his way to the office.

His door was wide open, Percival's voice strong and prominent as he read from a copy of _1984_ to his Sophomore class. Credence tried to pass by unnoticed, kept his head ducked and his gait fast, but even as he glanced up at the professor, he could see Percival peering out at him. He may have expected disappointment, maybe even anger, but he only saw concern in his eyes. Concern, and impatient curiosity.

Credence ducked his head and moved on, listening as Percival continued to read to his class, sounding unfazed. Credence reached the office shortly after.

Stepping inside, he was immediately greeted by Principal Picquery, who met Credence's eyes and merely gestured to her personal office. Credence felt his heart drop and feared that he was in more trouble than he thought. As he followed Picquery into her office, he quickly ran through every and all offenses he may have committed against her, against the school, but aside from skipping one day and missing Percival's class, he could think of nothing. And one day missing and 'going home early' was hardly something to be summoned to the _Principal's_ office for.

As soon as he was sitting, Credence was prepared to beg for leniency, but just as he opened his mouth, Picquery was lifting her hand, calling for his silence.

“Worry not, Mr. Barebone,” Picquery soothed him, sitting elegantly in her chair. Smoothing her hands onto her walnut wood desk, she said, “You are not here to be punished. I merely wish to talk.”

“T-talk?” Credence echoed, looking bewildered. Picquery silently nodded, although her expression was hardly a friendly one.

“It has come to my attention that you have entered the care of my esteemed colleague and friend, Percival Graves.” She began, lacing her fingers together. Credence didn't respond, more confused than disobedient. Still, Picquery seemed unperturbed, “And he has informed me that you have come upon some... intelligence concerning your lineage.”

Credence almost immediately deflated. His hand lifted to his bruised cheek and his eyes dropped to the ground. He clenched his jaw tightly, refusing to answer. Picquery still persevered.

“Genevieve... was a very close friend of mine.” Picquery suddenly said, and that caught Credence's attention, “I had promised her that I would hold on to something very important that she wanted to give you. I wanted to wait until you were old enough to understand... old enough to make your own decisions. I wanted to wait until you were eighteen, but it seems Percival has ruined _that_ as well...”

With a sigh, Picquery reached into her desk drawer, fishing out an old but taken care of envelope, a soft color of pastel lavender that may have been a dark purple once upon a time. Picquery set the envelope on her desk, face up, and slid it Credence's way, allowing him the chance to take the envelope.

He examined it for a moment longer, eyes catching on the wax seal holding the envelope shut, pressed down with what could have only been the family's coat of arms. Gently, he ran his forefinger over the embossed image, a spark of wonder in his eyes, and then, as if he were cupping an injured bird, he carried the envelope onto his lap.

As he turned the envelope around, he found, in a gorgeous script that made Credence's heart flutter, he read,

_'To my Son,'_

Turning it back around, Credence gingerly slid his finger under the wax seal, his breath catching when it broke for the first time in seventeen years.

_'My dearest Son,_

_I sincerely regret how little time we have spent together. I know now, even as I write you this letter, that your uncle is about to commit an unspeakable act. I know now that if he is successful, you will be taken from me and denied the right of having a true family. And even as I write this letter, apologizing to you, I know that deep down in my heart, I am praying that he succeeds._

_You see, my sweet boy, there is a man in my life who has wronged us. A man that I trusted, who I loved as deeply as a sister could. A man that has ruined us even before you were conceived. Do not be deceived, I do not detest your existence. You were possibly the only thing this man, your father, could have ever given me that I would have enjoyed. This man deserves everything your uncle plans to do to him. He deserves to suffer the pain he has put me through._

_And if your uncle fails and this man continues to breathe long after I expire, if this man still lives when you come of age, I can only ask that you avenge me. This man must pay for his sins, and if it isn't by your uncle's hand or by my own, then this responsibility must be passed on to you. How I hope it doesn't come to this, my lovely child, how I hope I don't have to stain your hands with his blood, but my soul will not rest as long as this accursed man walks the earth._

_And so, with a heavy heart, I beg you, my only son, to forgive me and your uncle for the pain we have put you through and, if need be, find your father._

_And end him.'_

Credence clenched his jaw, slowly unwrapping the envelope even more until a golden locket fell out. Plucking it from his lap, he popped the locket open and came face-to-face with a man. A man he knew already.

“Mr. Barebone?” Picquery called out, catching Credence's attention, “Is everything alright?”

Credence clenched his fist tightly around the locket, closing it with his fingers and letting the cool metal warm against his skin. Silently, he folded the letter back up and cleared his throat, not even realizing that he had begun to quietly cry until he was wiping the tears from his cheeks.

“C-can I...?” He asked, gesturing to the envelope, and Picquery quickly shook her head.

“Please, I insist. It is yours now.” She bid, and Credence sniffed before he tucked the letter into his backpack. He held onto the locket, however, and in one last moment of bravery, he looked back at Picquery.

“Grindelwald and Professor Graves... were they... married?” He asked, and Picquery seemed to grow uncomfortable. Shifting in her seat, she considered his question for a long, tense moment.

“Not legally, no,” Picquery admitted with a frown, “Not as many people were as embracing as they are today, Mr. Barebone. It would be best to remember that.”

“But their family knew about them?” Credence asked next, and Picquery slowly nodded.

“To an extent. Genevieve was well aware of their relationship and supported it. She often considered Percival family, although Percival's family was... less than ecstatic.” She explained slowly, and Credence nodded minutely.

Getting up from his chair, Credence breathed out, “Thank you, Madam Picquery... For giving this to me.”

“I only did what I had promised your mother I would do,” She said, leaning back in her seat, “Although... I am curious as to what she wrote to you.”

Credence smiled grimly, then muttered, “Perhaps I'll let you know.”

Seraphina eyed him critically, and even after the bell rang, she continued to look at him. Credence, meanwhile, began to step away, intent on leaving the situation as quickly as he can.

“Mr. Barebone,” Picquery called out, stopping the boy in his tracks. She surveyed him again, looking him up and down, and then finally said, “To a foster child, this may seem untrue, but... the relationships you have built over these seventeen years of your life have done more to create who you are today than the blood that runs through your veins.”

“Excuse me?” Credence asked quietly, brow furrowing.

“What I mean is, your family is who you make it be, not who gave you life.” She spoke wisely. Credence considered her words, then quietly nodded and turned back towards the door.

He barely got two steps out of the administration office before he was being confronted by Percival himself, looking more than a little wary. “Credence?” He blurted, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and meeting his eyes. For once this entire week, Credence didn't feel a lick of anger. He stared up at Percival blankly, studying his face, remembering his features, completely ignoring the words Percival was saying in favor of just focusing on who this man was.

Quietly, and in the middle of Percival's sentence, Credence whispered, “I'm sorry.” Percival fell quiet in an instant, not believing what he had just heard. The area around them was quiet, it seemed, even though students and teachers alike were in the halls, walking around and chatting as they headed to the cafeteria. Percival opened his mouth, prepared to say something, but soon became almost hyper-aware by how many people were around them.

“Come with me,” He said instead, grabbing Credence by the wrist and pulling him through the crowd and towards his classroom, sitting empty now that his students were rushing for their lunch break.

As soon as they were inside and the door was shut, Percival looked at Credence again. Credence, meanwhile, was staring down at his fist, still holding the golden locket.

“Credence,” Percival whispered, “Is everything okay?”

The young man let out a breath, looking up from his hand and into Percival's eyes, and he knew he looked a mess. He could feel the telltale burn in his eyes from when he had been crying, could feel the stuffiness in his nose and the sting in his throat, but still, he smiled and replied, “I think so. It will be.”

“What did Seraphina speak to you about?” Percival asked gently, approaching his son and settling a hand on his shoulders. Credence sniffed and tucked the locket into his pocket, then completely ignored the question.

“W-when did you know I was your son?” Credence asked quietly, rubbing at his sore eyes, “How did you find me?”

Percival's brows furrowed, the deflecting too obvious to be completely ignored, but Percival humored him. Allowing Credence to take a seat at one of the desks, Percival double-checked his classroom door, ensuring it was locked along with the windows, and then settled in the desk beside Credence's, facing him directly.

“My memories of that time were unreliable. Gellert had control over every aspect of me, even my thoughts. He was a constant in my mind, sharing my experiences, watching the world through my eyes. But the day I found you.... it wasn't going to be a day I would forget.” Percival began gently, a small smile on his face, “You weren't at Ilvermorny yet. You must have been twelve or thirteen at the time. I believe you had just been adopted by that wretched woman around that time. But I digress...

“The day I found you, Gellert had sent me out into the city without the mask. I was constantly on a mission to find you, although neither of us truly knew what we were looking for.” Percival recalled, gaze growing distant, “It was a boy that would look like one of us, that's all we knew. Gellert was adamant that the moment we saw you, we would know. I was less certain, but I still searched.

“I think I had paused just outside of the bank. I remember holding a twenty in my hand when I saw you, running away from two older children and hiding in the alleyway. I don't know what drew me to you, but there I was, stepping into the alleyway where they had cornered you.”

“I remember,” Credence whispered, looking awed, “N-not you, but those kids, that day.”

“You were pretty out of it when I got to you,” Percival recalled with a smile, “They roughed you up remarkably. I think I only scared them off with my presence, I barely had to lift a finger to get them off of you.” He leaned back in the desk chair, recalling that day with a smile, “And when I looked down at your bruised face, I just... knew. You had to be him. You had to be the one I was looking for.”

“But do you know for sure?” Credence asked next, and Percival frowned.

“Of course, I do.”

“How?” Credence pushed, and now Percival looked uncertain.

“I just did, Credence. I saw you laying there, saw how similar you were to Genevieve, and I just knew I had to be your father.”

Credence slowly nodded, looking down at his lap, and he mumbled, “I didn't want to believe you when you first said it. I guess I... I didn't want--”

“To be related to a rapist?” Percival finished, but Credence immediately shook his head.

“You're not.” He replied sternly, “What Grindelwald made you do...”

“You don't have to make excuses for me, Credence. I have already come to terms with the crime I have committed.” Percival said sternly, and Credence shifted with a frown.

“But it _is_ his fault, isn't it? He's the one who subdued my mother.” Credence insisted, clenching his fists on his lap, “He was in control of you for so long... how would you know if he truly and completely let you go?”

Percival blinked, considering, and then frowned, “Please don't make this difficult, Credence. Let me bear this guilt as I deserve to.” He cleared his throat, looking guilty all over again, and mentioned, “Speaking of guilt... I owe you an apology. I should have never struck you.”

Credence flushed and looked down at his lap again, saying gently, “I egged you on. I knew you were mad and I kept pushing anyway.”

“That's hardly your fault,” Percival huffed, and Credence shot him a sly look.

“If you'll bear your guilt, I'll bear my own,” He remarked, and Percival huffed in amusement.

And then, infinitely awkwardly, Percival cleared his throat again and asked, “Does... this mean you forgive me?”

Credence sat rigidly, then muttered, “I-I suppose.”

Trying his hardest to repress an eager smile, Percival asked, “Will you call me your... father?”

Credence looked away, then muttered, “Mr. Graves works just fine.”

“Right,” Percival grunted, smoothing out the fabric of his pants, “Of course.” He cleared his throat one last time, then said, “I-I guess you should go eat your lunch.... son.”

Credence grimaced and started to get up, then muttered, “Credence is just fine.”

“Yes. Right. Of course.” Percival mumbled, brows furrowed, “I... er.... Do you want a ride home today?”

Smiling this time, Credence nodded, mumbling, “I would appreciate that, Mr. Graves. Thank you.”

 


	26. Chapter 25

The text came out of seemingly nowhere at two in the morning. Newt would have been surprised that Credence knew he was still awake if he hadn't been telling him all about how he has to wake up every morning in order to feed and exercise Gertrude, his slow loris. It had been difficult to do at first, but Newt accommodated quickly, especially when he saw just how happy little Gertrude was.

But more importantly, and more to the point, the text Credence sent that night was definitely out of the blue. So out of the blue, in fact, that Newt could only respond with a hesitant, “Why?”

“I have a good feeling about it,” Credence replied almost immediately, and Newt pressed his lips into a line.

“I'll be there in ten,” He said, putting Gertrude away and then sending a text to his brother, informing him that he was leaving the house and to call for help if he wasn't back by the time Theseus woke up.

And so, at two-ten in the morning, Newt and Credence met outside the brownstone that they had visited only a week ago, the very same one that Percival had said Grindelwald would be in. They stood there in the cold morning air, Credence greeting him with a smile and a gentle touch, and then saying, “Stay out here and keep guard.”

“Again?” Newt huffed, looking dejected, but Credence only nodded. Newt could only huff, “You called me out here at two in the morning so I could freeze my--”

“Animagus, please,” Credence begged, placing his hands on either bicep, then leaning in to kiss him, “ _Keep guard_.” He emphasized, giving Newt a stern look, and then entering the building before Newt could say a word.

Huffing, Animagus brought out his anger by kicking a rock halfway across the street. Pacing in front of the house, he crossed his arms and muttered under his breath, “Stupid, rubbish boyfriend dragging me out here... Not getting a kiss goodnight from me, no sir! Tells me to keep guard.” Another innocent pebble was knocked across the street, rolling a little farther this time, and Newt paused.

He didn't exactly keep guard last time. Why should he keep guard this time around?

Jutting out his bottom lip, Newt grumbled, “Keep guard, he says. I'll keep guard!” and with a pop, he transformed into a billywig and shot into the house, trying to stay as hidden as possible as he darted through the house in search of Obscurus.

He wasn't in the master bedroom like last time. Newt darted to and fro, peeking in the guest bedrooms, the bathrooms, even the kitchen. He thought for a terrifying minute that Credence had been kidnapped by Grindelwald, that he had come in too late, but before he could really begin to panic, a crash echoed through the house from the front parlor, followed quickly by a panicked, “I-I'm sorry--”

Newt zipped to the find the sound, fluttering into the room on tirelessly beating wings until he was tucked into the corner, watching as both Grindelwald and Credence—no longer Obscurus—knelt on the floor, picking up the remnants of a vase.

“Not to worry, my boy. Everything in this house is far gone anyways,” Grindelwald reassured him calmly, forgoing the glass in order to place a hand on Credence's shoulder. Credence flinched, glanced up towards the ceiling, then back down to the rug.

“I-I guess I just... don't want to ruin it anymore...” He mumbled almost shyly. Before Grindelwald could respond, Credence said, “You were going to say something...?”

“Ah, yes,” Gellert sighed, getting up from the floor and extending a hand to Credence to help him to his feet, “I'm sure you've noticed already, but I have been keeping my eye on you. I must say, Credence, I'm... concerned.”

“You don't get along with Percival much, do you?” He mentioned, and Credence looked down at his feet, “For a boy who has been craving a family for so long, you would think to live in the same house as your father--”

“Please,” Credence interrupted boldly, although he kept his head ducked, “Don't... don't call him that. I don't... I don't want _him_ as a father, sir.”

Grindelwald was quiet, for a time. Credence merely stood there, head down and posture meek. Newt buzzed quietly, watching with baited breath.

“You don't?” Grindelwald asked in a whisper, and Credence slowly shook his head no, “I see... Then, pray tell, who would you prefer to have as a father, Credence?”

The boy held his breath, clenched his jaw, then let it out with a rush of words, “Will you tell me about my mother, sir? About how I was conceived?”

Suddenly defensive, Grindelwald asked, “And why would that be of interest to you?”

“Mr. Graves is a liar and a f-fool, sir. I want to know the truth. I want to know who my real father is.” Credence insisted, and Grindelwald sucked in a sharp breath.

“Credence,” He whispered almost passionately, approaching the teen in three quick steps and grabbing him by the back of his neck. Credence yelped belatedly and went rigid under his touch, but Grindelwald didn't mean to harm. He merely meant to hold him, to keep him close.

“It is not a pretty story, Credence,” Grindelwald warned, holding him close, so close that their breaths for mingling. It was far too close, far too intimate, and Credence restrained himself from squirming away, “Are you certain you want to hear it?”

“Yes,” Credence breathed, trying to meet Gellert's eyes, but unable to get any higher than his chin, “Y-yes, sir. Please.”

Gellert's grip on the back of his neck tightened for a moment and then released altogether. He stepped away with a flourish and Credence found he could breathe again. Newt found himself struggling for air as well, just as scared to see Credence in such a position as Credence was himself. Pacing the foyer, Gellert began the tale with a strong voice, recalling the night as distinctly as he could.

“Your conception was a long time coming, Credence. For ages, I craved a family of my own, with Percival at my side and a child to call ours.” Gellert retold, looking wistful as he paced, “But biology wouldn't allow it. Percival and I lacked the ability to reproduce, the both of us being men. So I had to get... creative.”

Looking at Credence, Gellert said, “I would settle for nothing less than a child with both of our blood running through his or her veins. So in an attempt to recreate a son of our own, I convinced your mother, Genevieve, to be a surrogate. Percival would breed with her and whatever she produced would be our son, with the Grindelwald and Graves bloodlines intertwined. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.”

Scowling now, Gellert all but spat out, “But when the coward came home, he lost his nerve. Said he was repulsed by women, said he wouldn't ever get it up with her. So he forced me to help.” He sighed deeply, looking almost regretful, and he said, “It was like teaching a teenager about sex. I had to guide him, move him by hand, show him by example, anything to get him to mate with her. It nearly took all night...”

A cruel smile and Gellert was looking at Credence again, “But he finally did it. I finally created you. _We_ created you.”

Credence was... unsettlingly quiet. He stared at the man, mouth agape, almost terrified, and he had to force himself to speak without outright gagging. Deciding on how to say what he wanted to say next was almost as hard as hearing the story.

“And y-you're certain he's my father?” He asked. Grindelwald's smile fell. And then Grindelwald was angry.

“Are you implying my sister— _your_ mother—was a whore? Got... knocked up by some _third party_?” Grindelwald spat out, approaching Credence so quickly that the teen stumbled backwards in order to buy him time to correct his mistake.

“No! No, sir, absolutely not! I-I just mean... are you sure it was _Percival_ who created me?” Credence asked, eyes wide. Grindelwald paused, although the glare in his eyes hadn't waned. When he didn't respond, Credence continued to babble, “When we first met, back then in the alleyway, you ripped out some of my hair.”

“And?” Gellert replied gruffly, making Credence flinch with just the bite of his tone.

“I was wondering if... if maybe you...” Credence gulped, then stammered out, “T-tested it.”

Gellert's brows lifted. His anger turned into one of surprise. “Why, Credence,” He gasped, looking affronted, “Is it so hard to believe that we are not your fathers?”

“No, sir. Not you,” Credence said quickly, pausing only to lick his lips before adding, “Just... Mr. Graves, sir.”

Grindelwald sucked on his teeth, eyes alight, and he whispered, “Explain.”

“I-I can't,” Credence replied weakly, looking... lost. “I just... I've known Mr. Graves for so long now, and I never... _felt_ anything. He never seemed like he was my father...”

And then, with a bolt of bravery, Credence looked up at Gellert, met his eyes, and he took a step closer, all to say, “But _you_... Not even when we first met, but when you first crept into my mind, when you used the Imperius on me...” shaking his head, almost at a loss for words, Credence stammered out in awe, “I-it was like.... coming home.”

“Oh, Credence,” Gellert gasped, grabbing the boy by the shoulders and yanking him, almost painfully, into a full-body hug, wrapping his arms around him so tight he could barely breathe. Credence's eyes prickled with tears, little fat droplets that ran down his cheeks as he returned the gesture, and he barely got a moment to pull himself together before Gellert was pushing him away again.

“That's it,” the man decided loudly, “The _second_ you turn eighteen, boy, you're _mine_.”

“B-but, school--” Credence began to argue, but Grindelwald waved away his complaints with a gesture of his hand and a sharp, “bah!”

“You can be taught anywhere! Ilvermorny is _nothing_ compared to my genius! I will teach you. I will take you from Manhattan and bring you all over the world, Credence. I'll make up for these last seventeen years, I promise.” Cradling Credence by the back of his head again, Gellert pulled the boy close, bringing Credence's head to rest on his shoulder, and he gave a soft, satisfied breath when Credence trembled into his touch.

“The second you turn eighteen, Credence...” Gellert whispered to him, kissing the crown of his head, “I'll show you what a _true_ father is like.”

Credence let out a breath, relaxing into a puddle in Gellert's arms, and nearly sobbing into his shoulder. Gellert gently hushed him, stroking his hair lovingly and placing soft kisses along his skull. It took a minute for Credence to calm, but when he did, Gellert let him go and smiled at him.

“Go on, my boy,” He whispered gently, stepping away from Credence, “Go back to Percival and bear these last days alone knowing that I will be waiting for you at the end.”

Credence slowly nodded, wiping at his eyes, and he mumbled, “I-I will, sir... D-Dad...?”

Gellert bit his lip, nodding encouragingly, and with a snap of his fingers, he vanished.

Credence let out a breath, taking a minute to gather himself up. Animagus, stunned, quickly abandoned the house and resumed his position in front of the house. He, too, needed a moment, but less to gather himself and more to adorn a mask that didn't belie the information he had just eavesdropped on.

When Credence stepped out of the house, once again as Obscurus, he struggled to keep a smile on. He struggled so much that it became painful, and Obscurus hesitated on the staircase.

“Everything okay, Animagus?” He asked, slowly drawing closer.

“P-Peachy!” Newt lied, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “What do you mean? Of course I'm okay! Everything's okay!” He laughed anxiously, but inside he was screaming. Why was he so bad at this?!

Obscurus blinked at him, looked him over casually, then smiled and said, “I'm glad it wasn't too cold.”

Animagus blinked dumbly as Obscurus walked past him. He... bought it? Turning to watch Obscurus standing at the edge of the road, stretching lazily, Newt wondered if Credence really trusted him that much or if he was just as bad at noticing a lie as Newt was at creating them.

“Seriously?” Newt blurted, only to turn bright red and embarrassed when Credence turned and gave him a curious look. “I-I mean—I just—do you have to s-stretch in front of me?” He lied again, and Credence positively blushed.

He glanced away for a moment, then turned towards Newt completely before asking, “You fed Gertrude, right?”

“Yeah?” Newt answered with a frown, not sure what she had to do with anything. Obscurus shifted on his feet, looking shy.

“Do you want to sleep over? Maybe... stay for breakfast?” Credence asked next, and Newt's brows lifted.

“Really?” Newt blurted, taking a step forward, “But Mr. Graves--”

“Don't worry about him. He won't make a fuss,” Credence reassured him with a smile, “We won't do anything, promise.”

Newt laughed a little, stepping closer to Credence and letting the teen put his hands on his hips, pulling him close. “You sure we won't do anything?” He flirted awkwardly, putting his arms around Credence's neck and brushing their noses together. Credence hummed, moving his hands up and down Newt's side.

“I'm sure,” Credence grinned, “My sisters _are_ home, you know.”

Newt positively pouted, his bottom lip jutting out just that little bit, and he mumbled, “Maybe we can make a stop somewhere?”

Credence laughed a little, blushing in delight, and he whispered, “We can take a break halfway there...”

Newt grinned and said, “Lead the way.”

 


	27. Chapter 26: Barebone Breakfast

Newt really couldn't help but ask. He knew he probably shouldn't, knew it would make him seem suspicious, but he wanted to be prepared.

Laying in Credence's bed—fully dressed, mind you—entwined together under his sheets in the light of the rising sun, Newt propped his head up on the back of his hand and asked Credence, “When's your birthday?”

“Hmm?” Credence grunted, eyes popping open as if he had been sleeping, but Newt had felt his hand stroking the small of his back for a few minutes now and he knew he wasn't.

“When's your birthday?” Newt asked again, trying to keep his expression neutral. Inquisitive at most. As if he were asking for a typical reason and not because he had overheard Grindelwald promising Credence he would steal him when he turned eighteen.

“Couple of weeks,” Credence mumbled evasively, peering up at Newt, “On the Monday after next.”

Newt hummed softly. So that gave him a little over a week and a half. He wasn't really sure what for, but it was good to know.

“Maybe we should do something,” Newt found himself saying, a little nervously, “Skip school or something. Go into the city, maybe.”

Credence smiled a little, but replied, “Mr. Graves is already upset at me for skipping school once. I think he thought I was dead until he found me at home.”

Newt laughed because really, it was funny. Thinking of esteemed and prim Mr. Graves panicked at mourning was silly in a dark way, but Newt didn't feel particularly bad about it. The man _had_ tried to break them up once before.

“Then tell him you're sick that morning,” Newt tried to convince him, giving him a soft kiss, “And then when he leaves, I'll come get you and we can spend the day together.”

Credence chuckled softly, a soft blush on his cheeks, and he mumbled, “I don't know... I'll have to think about it.”

“Don't think, just say you will,” Newt huffed, kissing him again, “We can go to Central Park. Go to the zoo again. We could even take a train and leave New York for a little while...”

Credence sighed at that, a wistful little thing, and he mumbled tiredly, “Go to sleep, Newt. I'll think about it.”

Pouting, Newt pressed his cheek to Credence's chest and closed his eyes. He didn't feel particularly tired, but laying there with Credence's rhythmic heartbeat echoing in his ear was enough to soothe him into a comfortable space between sleep and wakefulness. He could feel Credence's hand on his back still, but his mind sparked to life with images and fantasies brought on only in dreams. He thought he could slip further into it, the comfortably warm unconsciousness, but morning came quicker.

He was roused awake by Credence tapping on his hip, gently bringing him out of his nap. He grumbled and whined his way into the waking world, rolling off of Credence and curling up with his blankets instead, fully intent on returning to blissful rest.

A soft laugh from his boyfriend kept him from straying too far, and the kiss he felt on his brow lured him back more until Newt was peeking up at Credence with a glint of annoyance in his eyes.

“I was sleeping,” He complained, and Credence ran a thumb against his cheekbone.

“I know, I'm sorry,” Credence apologized lightly, “The girls are up and Mr. Graves is making breakfast. Might as well break it to them that you're here now before he finishes cooking for four.”

“Do I have to?” Newt huffed, grabbing Credence's hand and kissing the center of his palm, “Can't you just sneak me some eggs and toast and let them pretend they don't already know I'm here?”

Credence shook his head fondly, then grabbed Newt by his wrists and pulled him out of the bed. Newt protested with his eyes and his mouth, pouting and begging to be left alone to sleep more, but he eventually got both feet on the cold hardwood. Stretching, Newt shucked off his slept-in clothes and changed into something Credence let him borrow. The shorts were too big at the waist and the shirt was falling off his shoulder, but Newt wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Credence went out first with Newt right behind him. They ran into the girls first, Modesty stepping into the bathroom to brush her teeth just as Chastity got out from the shower, already dressed for the day. They looked at their brother, then at Newt, and then continued on completely unfazed. Modesty even offered him a half-awake 'G'morning', that Newt returned just as enthusiastically.

Credence and Newt stepped into the dining room, just beside the kitchen, and waited for Percival to take notice. He didn't let them wait long, and although he kept his back to them, he called over his shoulder, “Good morning, boys. Hungry?”

Credence's brows lifted in surprise, and with a quick glance at Newt to confirm that he was talking to _them_ , Credence merely shrugged and muttered, “Yes, sir. A bit.”

“Well, go set up the table, then. It'll be just a few more minutes.” Percival instructed, glancing back at them fleetingly as if to confirm that both boys were there, and he offered a brief, “Animagus.”

“It's Newt, really,” The teen corrected blandly.

“I would say I'm surprised to see you here this morning if I didn't hear the two of you sneaking in through the front door. Amateurish of you two, I would say,” Percival scolded lightly, “No wonder you two haven't found Grindelwald. He's probably heard you coming from a mile away.”

Newt laughed weakly, glancing at Credence to see him looked completely unfazed. In fact, the man was even stoic enough to mention, “It's not like we're searching Manhattan on foot, Mr. Graves. Newt can be really quiet when he's a billywig. Can barely even hear his wings if you're not looking for them.”

Newt flushed, but the look Credence sent him was meaningful, although it was lost on the teen. Instead of worrying about it too much, however, Newt merely kept quiet and helped Credence set up the table.

By the time the table was set, breakfast was done, and the girls were ready for school. They all sat down, Newt squeezed between Credence and Percival and ate in relative silence. Modesty kept her head down, focused on the breakfast and her own whimsical thoughts. She was far too used to this sort of atmosphere from Mary Lou's house when they would all stay quiet in fear of upsetting the woman. Chastity, however, had barely touched her food. She was more focused on Credence, Newt, and Percival than her own plate.

It wasn't until everyone was just about done when Chastity blurted out, “So are we not going to mention that Newt is eating breakfast with us?”

Percival glanced up at her, wary, and Newt looked a little defensive. “Problem?” Percival asked, and Chastity all but scoffed in response.

“I should be asking _you_ that! Last time you caught them together, you were ready to throw the both of them out!” Chastity claimed, getting a surprised frown from their foster father.

Credence hunched forward, hissing out a harsh, “Chastity! Enough!” but she outright scoffed at him too, leaning back in her seat with her arms crossed.

“Or what? He'll hit _me_ next?” She questioned. Modesty looked up from her plate at that, surprised, while Newt and Credence both looked worried. Percival, on the other hand, seemed completely caught off-guard.

“Chastity,” Percival said in a hard tone, and Credence went rigid, looking just about ready to get up and intervene if need be. Chastity, however, merely jutted out her bottom lip and kept her face stern. Percival sucked in a breath, then said in a rush, “My actions toward your brother are unforgivable, I know, but I will not sit here and be talked to like this by my daughter, foster child or not.”

“Well, I don't see you doing anything about it!” Chastity fumed, pushing up from her chair, “Don't think for a second that just because you're allowing Newt to have breakfast with us that it makes everything okay!”

Enraged, Percival barked out, “I _don't_ , and I'm not expecting his forgiveness, but I know when I am in the wrong and understand that as an adult, it is my _responsibility_ to correct my errors. If you expect to have any respect when you're older, young lady, then it would be in your best interest to _act your age_ and keep your nose out of business that doesn't concern you!”

“Doesn't concern--?! You _hit_ my _brother_!” Chastity remarked, and Credence could very nearly see the moment Percival snapped. He clenched his hand into a tight fist, slammed it down on the table, and pushed himself out of his own chair, the furniture skidding back loudly before tipping over anyways. It hit the wood floor with a loud slam, but it barely brought Percival out of his anger.

“Chastity Barebone--!” Percival yelled, only to promptly shut up when a creature was suddenly hanging from his neck.

Startled, Percival looked down, then jolted backwards when he found a heavy, sloth-looking creature wrapped around his neck, looking up at him with wide, saucer-sized green eyes. Glancing to the empty seat at his left, Percival growled, “Animagus, get off!”

But Animagus didn't listen. Instead, he wrapped his arms around him even tighter, staring up at him with stubborn resilience. His long, slightly curved nails clung to Percival's shirt as he cuddled him, and almost aggressively he began to purr.

Huffing, Percival tried to yank Animagus off of him, but Animagus merely squeaked in defiance and turned outright invisible, crawling up onto Percival's shoulders and stretching around the back of his neck like some animal skin scarf. Percival shuddered and reached back, trying to wrench him off, and Animagus quickly ducked out of the way, wrapping around his middle this time.

“Newt, get off of him!” Credence tried to intervene, but he still refused, transforming into a giant, incredibly long snake, which he managed to manipulate his body in order to restrain Percival's upper body, tightening every time the man struggled until Percival was dropping to his knees with a gasp.

Percival was trembling with the way his body was being held, muscles protesting loudly. From between gritted teeth, he begged, “Let go, Animagus!”

Animagus only responded with a wicked hiss, right into his ear, and Percival squeezed his eyes shut.

“Newt, you're hurting him!” Chastity was saying as well, looking scared.

“Let him go, I don't think he can breathe!” Credence begged, and Newt glanced his way anxiously.

Hissing again, Newt tried to convey his point to the rapidly fading Percival, and then quickly unraveled until he was free enough to transform back into Animagus, and then into Newt, sitting beside Percival with a scowl on his face. Percival gasped upon being released, crumpling forward onto his hands and shaking. Credence hurried to Percival's side, hesitantly putting a hand on his shoulder, but Percival immediately shrugged him off.

“D-don't touch me,” He growled, still panting hard as he tried to catch his breath. Credence clenched his jaw tightly, then looked up at Chastity with a frown.

“Do you feel better now?” He asked coldly, making Chastity flinch. Credence didn't linger on it for too long, though. Instead, he got to his feet and gestured towards the door, “Go outside, I'll walk you to school.”

Chastity led the quiet Modesty out of the dining room and out of the house, only pausing long enough to put on their shoes and collect their backpacks. Credence muttered under his breath as he went to his bedroom, changing into his Ilvermorny uniform in record time, then grabbing his own bag and heading for the front door. He only paused when he remembered Newt was still there, sitting awkwardly but silently beside Percival. He looked back at the quiet man, but Newt merely gestured for him to go, offering him a supportive smile.

Nodding, Credence exited the house and left with his sisters.

A few seconds later, when they were certain the Barebones weren't about to return, Percival slowly leaned back on his haunches, sucking in one last, deep breath. Newt looked him over anxiously, but he couldn't see anything immediately wrong with him.

“S-sorry,” He apologized weakly, and Percival closed his eyes. “I thought you were... going to...”

Shaking his head, Percival mumbled, “Don't apologize. It's my fault. I shouldn't have overreacted...” Cursing, Percival ran his hands through his hair, then muttered, “Now they're _all_ angry at me...”

“No! Well...” Newt attempted to find a bright side, a reason for Percival to believe that they weren't entirely upset with him, but he found none. Biting his bottom lip, he let his word hang in the air between them, unsure what else to say or do.

Pushing himself to his feet, Newt mumbled, “Maybe I should...” but he was already heading off to Credence's bedroom, intent on changing and returning home. Percival certainly didn't argue against it, and by the time Newt was dressed and hastily texting a worried Theseus that he was just fine and at Credence's house, Percival was up and cleaning the dining room table.

He paused by the front door, unsure if he should say goodbye or not. Percival seemed lost in his own thoughts, not even glancing back towards Newt. The teen didn't think anything more would be quite welcome, so with a brief sigh, he began to open the door.

“Animagus,” Came Percival's voice, making Newt cringe on reflex.

“Really, sir, it's just Newt.” He complained, closing the door and turning back around, finding Percival standing on the threshold between the kitchen and the dining room, glass cup in one hand and a small towel he was using to dry it in the other. He was looking at Newt with a curious gaze, not entirely happy.

“You never use your kettle,” Percival mentioned, only earning another embarrassed grimace from the boy. “Even then, when it would have been a quicker option to disarm me. You turned into a beast instead. Why is that?”

“You really would have preferred I knock you across the head with a metal tea kettle?” Newt asked flatly, and this time with was Percival's turn to grimace.

“No, definitely not.” He answered quickly, and when Newt made a shrugging gesture with his brows raised, Percival insisted, “But you could have used it for its intended purpose instead.”

Newt snorted loudly, his brows meeting together in doubt, “And what? Brewed you a cup of jasmine tea?”

Percival blinked, processing Newt's answer for only a moment before he asked, “Do you not know how to use your weapon?”

“It's a _tea kettle_ , Mr. Graves.” Newt said with a laugh, but when Percival's expression didn't change, Newt found himself frowning and asked, “How else am I supposed to use it?”

“Hm.” Percival merely answered, turning away long enough to put the dried glass cup away, and he tossed the towel on the kitchen counter. “Transform.”

“Pickett, transform me,” Newt said immediately, and seconds later, Animagus stood there, tea kettle in hand. “Now what?”

“I'm not sure,” Percival admitted calmly, “Legilimens would just say what she wanted out loud.”

Animagus blinked, then looked down at the tea kettle before holding it aloft. “Jasmine tea!” He prompted, waiting for just a moment, and then bringing it back to his chest and lifting the pot lid. “Empty.”

“Hm.” Percival said again, taking a few steps closer as he thought about it, “I think the first time I saw Legilimens use the tea kettle, she merely requested water. Start there.”

Holding the tea kettle aloft once more, Newt requested, “Water!” but nothing happened. Brow furrowing, he began to ramble, “Water... please?” Still nothing, “Just a drop?” It was dry, “It's not working. Should I try a different language? Dame agua por favor?”

Suddenly, the tea kettle began to rattle, and Newt almost lost his grip on it if he didn't clutch at the handle with both hands. Blinking wildly, Newt pulled the kettle back to his chest and popped the lid open once it settled, finding it filled to the brim with water.

Looking up at Percival, who had a proud smile on his face, Newt blurted out, “It's Spanish?”

Laughing, Percival mentioned, “It could just be that it doesn't understand your accent...”

“Oh,” Newt hummed, looking back down at the kettle, “That makes sense, I guess. Erm, tea kettle? No mas agua? Please?”

A slurping sound came from the kettle in hand, and seconds later, it was empty.

“I still don't think I understand,” Newt mentioned, his brows furrowing, “How is summoning water or tea better than turning into a snake?”

Percival sighed, almost a fond one, really, and said, “Your Miraculous works directly from Imagination. Either your own or someone else's. It isn't that you can brew water or tea. It's that you can summon drinks. Of any kind.”

“You wanted me to spike your drink with alcohol?” Newt remarked, and Percival suppressed a laugh, although the way he grinned was enough to show his amusement.

“What would you give to someone to calm them down? Maybe put them to sleep?” Percival asked, and Newt immediately started to think.

“Nyquil.” He decided immediately, and the tea kettle rattled once more. Peeking inside, Newt took a quick whiff of the substance within before grimacing, “So... I can summon anything that's liquid?”

“Anything you can think of.” Percival nodded. Newt looked down at the tea kettle again, thinking about it for a few moments longer.

“No mas Nyquil,” Newt bid, and the kettle emptied magically. Licking his lips, Newt thought about what he wanted to say, what he wanted to brew, and as soon as he had the effects in mind, he knew he just had to give it a name, just like the animals he turned into.

Wondering if this was really a good idea, if maybe this was going to have repercussions, Newt closed his eyes and requested, “Veritaserum.”

 


	28. Chapter 27: Veritaserum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's all pretend like I didn't spend the last however many weeks only playing botw.
> 
> Let's also all pretend like this chapter isn't as bad as it actually is lol
> 
> It's all downhill from here, folks!

Newt had tested it first, of course. He convinced Theseus to take a sip and proceeded to grill him about anything he could think of. He was surprised and amused to find out that when Newt and his parents had gone to the movies when Theseus had a 'flu', he had actually invited a girl over and ended up hiding her in his closet when they came home.

With his test showing positive results and the effects gone by morning, Newt acted fast to mix a dose of veritaserum in some tea and poured it all into a tumbler. He threw on some pants, pulled on a jacket, then forced Theseus to leave for school early so that Newt could get his boyfriend alone.

He followed Theseus to where he and Credence usually met and waited while Theseus moved on, grumbling under his breath in annoyance. Newt thought he might have to wait around for a while, but not ten minutes later he spotted Credence walking around the corner.

He all but sprang forward, getting a pleasantly surprised look from the boy, and immediately thrust the tumbler into his hand, demanding, “Drink this!”

Credence barely took one look at the drink before he put it up to his lips, taking a few gulps, and Newt blinked at him owlishly, actually surprised. When Credence lowered it and hummed in approval, Newt asked, “You didn't even ask me what it was...”

“Why?” Credence asked, only to immediately frown, “This isn't axolotl food or something, is it?”

“Wha—no! I'm just... it could've been anything and you just... drank it.” Newt muttered, suddenly feeling a little guilty. Again, Credence squinted at him.

“What did you just make me drink?” He asked finally, and Newt felt his heart jump into his throat.

In a panic, Newt blurted, “W-why do you think it's something weird? It's just tea. Don't you trust me?”

“Of course I do, Newt.” Credence responded almost immediately, suddenly looking uncertain, “But when you tell me you're surprised that I _didn't_ ask you, it makes me think that maybe I should ask you.”

“Nevermind that!” Newt quickly evaded, flustered, “H-how do you feel?”

Credence lifted a brow, then shrugged a shoulder and mumbled, “Okay, I guess. Are _you_ okay?”

“Peachy!” Newt replied with a nervous smile, eyes darting everywhere but directly at Credence. Now he had to make sure the drink worked. He needed a question he knew Credence would lie about even though Newt knew the truth.

“Why are you out here, anyways?” Credence asked all of a sudden, readjusting his backpack on his shoulders, “Felt like coming to school with me?”

Unable to help himself, Newt shuddered and declined, “No, thank you. I'd rather not risk anyone recognizing me.”

Smiling, Credence offered, “You could always turn into something small and hide in my backpack.”

Snorting, Newt asked, “And what, sit there all day, listening to the teachers? Sorry, Credence, but I have my babies to look after.”

Chuckling, Credence nudged Newt playfully and said, “Well, you might change your mind. You _are_ still walking with me, of course.”

Smirking, Newt responded with, “Because I'd rather go to school than hang out with the guy I l-love?”

“Probably.” Credence stated, making Newt twist his head around in surprise. He saw Credence's frown first and realized that was definitely something he had not meant to say.

Uncertain, Newt asked, “You don't think I love you?”

“Kind of,” Credence said, and his eyes went wide. Dropping the tumbler, Credence clapped his hands over his mouth. Newt gaped at him, shocked.

“W-well...” Newt wrung his hands anxiously, “I _do._ Why do you think I don't?”

“B-because— _urgh_...” Credence gritted his teeth tightly and covered his mouth again, trying to bite back his words. They slowed to a stop off to the side, letting the crowd pass as Credence fought the veritaserum, trying to keep his words locked inside where they belonged. Newt merely waited, though, looking between his eyes, and then decided this was a conversation to have in a more secluded area.

Grabbing Credence's arms, Newt pushed him into the nearest building, which turned out to a rather homely restaurant. Quickly, Newt asked the nearest waitress, “D-do you have a bathroom, I think my f-friend is going to be sick.”

With few words exchanged, Newt eventually ushered Credence into the restaurant's bathroom, proceeding to lock the both of them in the handicap stall.

Once alone, Newt grabbed Credence's wrists and forced his hands away, and it was like the words burst out from his lips.

“Because I nearly destroyed Manhattan and if you hadn't _kissed_ me I probably would have!” He exclaimed, looking horrified by his own words, “And you probably figured that if you _didn't_ date me, I'd do it again!”

“Credence!” Newt gasped, eyes wide and wet, almost hurt by the idea if Credence himself didn't look so surprised himself. Newt didn't really know what to say except, “I _love_ you. That's not up for debate.”

“I-I'm sorry, I don't know... I don't know where that all came from...” Credence gasped, his hands beginning to shake. Newt reached out and took them in his own, squeezing them until they stilled.

“I love you.” Newt said again, stepping closer to the man, “More than you love me, I bet. I've had a crush on Obscurus for _ages_.”

“But that's _Obscurus._ Not me.” Credence argued weakly, no longer fighting his words, “Obscurus and me... we're different...”

“No, you're not.” Newt huffed, brow furrowing.

“We are.”

“No, you're not! How are you different?”

“Obscurus is... he's more... confident. He's strong and cool and mysterious and I'm... just... Credence.” He explained softly, looking dejected by the fact, “Besides, when we met outside of the mask, you practically hid in the basement with Modesty all day.”

“Yeah, because there was a cute guy in my living room and I'm a buffoon in front of strangers!” Newt argued right back, holding his—and subsequently Credence's—hands out to the side, “What else would you expect of me?”

“I-I don't know!” Credence admitted, turning a little red. Newt took the time to shake his head fondly. “I guess I just... didn't think you _would_ like me...”

“So you acknowledge that I like you?” Newt asked immediately, and Credence let out a sigh.

“But _how_ do you like me?” Credence complained. Newt couldn't help but let out a dramatic huff himself.

“I don't know! With my heart?” Newt suggested, smiling a little, “But you can't tell me that I _don't_ love you when you clearly just stated that I _do_.”

Credence considered it for a moment, the veritaserum confusing him, and with a strained expression, he said, “I don't get why this is so difficult...”

Smiling, Newt shook his head and began to say, “It's probably the...” only to remember exactly _why_ this conversation came about and what the whole purpose of dosing Credence with veritaserum was. He had gotten side-tracked by this whole kerfuffle that he completely forgot about Grindelwald!

Quickly and tactlessly, Newt asked Credence, “Hey, was Grindelwald at that house we went to?”

“What?” Credence blinked, looking thrown by the sudden jump, “Yeah, he was, why--?”

And then Credence froze. Newt let go of his hands, expecting to feel victorious that he got the truth out, but instead he felt cornered himself. Credence looked at Newt with a hard stare, finally connecting the pieces, and he asked in a quiet voice, “What did you make me drink?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Newt stammered, “I-I knew it, Credence. I _knew_ you met Grindelwald in there and I _knew_ you were keeping it from me.”

Suddenly angry, Credence exclaimed, “I know you knew! Didn't you realize that I could hear the sound of your wings when we're in the same room? God—Newt!”

“W-what? But... why did you lie to me?”

“Because I figured if _I_ acted like I never saw him, it would make it easier for you to act like it too!” Credence all but yelled, and Newt took a nervous step back, “Now what did you make me drink?!”

“It was j-just something to make you tell me the truth!” Newt blurted, actually feeling scared of Credence, unused to seeing him so upset, “T-to tell me about Grindelwald!”

“So you planned to force me to tell you instead of asking?”

“I _did_ ask! You said he wasn't there!”

“Because you asked me _right outside his--_!” Credence gritted his teeth, fuming, then turned away and ran his fingers through his hair, “God, please.... Newt, _why_?” He faced Newt again, startling the younger man with teary eyes and a strained expression, “I thought you trusted me!”

“I—I do!” Newt stammered, but Credence shook his head and shoved past Newt, throwing the bathroom door open and rushing out, Newt stumbling after him in a panic. “Credence! Wait!”

He followed Credence out into the middle of the restaurant, where Credence stopped long enough to yell, “Just—stop! I can't believe you! Trying to convince me that you....” His whole face turned red, a mix of embarrassment and frustration. With his emotions in turmoil and the veritaserum still loosening his thoughts, Credence spat out, “D-don't follow me.”

He headed for the door to the restaurant, leaving behind a silent crowd as they watched him go, but Newt wouldn't give up that easily. He ran after Credence despite the command and grabbed him by the arm, stopping him in the doorway. He was seconds away from saying Credence's name, his mind already putting together all the different ways he could apologize, but not one ever came.

The moment Newt's grip slowed Credence's angry march, the teen spun around and shoved Newt backwards, practically throwing him into the waitress' podium. The hostess standing behind it managed to catch Newt and keep him and her podium steady, but Credence was gone before Newt could stand on his own two feet again.

Still, Newt ran out of the restaurant without a word to the staff or patrons and desperately chased Credence across the street, nearly getting hit twice in his mad scramble.

“Credence!” He called out, but the teen ducked into an alleyway, obviously desperate to get away. “Credence, I'm sorry!” Newt shoved past the crowd, stumbling into the alleyway just in time to see Obscurus zipping away in a whirlwind of shadows, blending in with the gray sky and the thick smog.

Cursing under his breath and desperate to set things right, Newt transformed himself and took to the sky, heading for the one place he never thought he would return to.

The school was only ten minutes away, and Newt arrived just in time for the first bell to ring. He didn't spot Credence or Obscurus' shadow at first glance, so he dove for the rooftop and transformed into a brown mouse instead. He took off towards the air vents, not knowing that just as he scurried inside, Obscurus reformed atop the roof with a gasp.

Transforming back into a human, Credence let out a pained wail. He had never felt so betrayed, never had his heart broken so quickly. He thought he made it obvious, he thought the little hints and the demure looks he sent Newt were enough to convince the teen that the whole Grindelwald business was their secret. He figured that if Newt didn't get at least that, then he would have enough trust in Credence to know he had a plan!

The second bell rang, and Credence sobbed and tucked his forehead against his arm. He couldn't even think about going to class right now—not only because of the hot pain in his chest but because the veritaserum was still running its course through him, making every honest thought twice as strong and every last doubt echo in his ears.

He slammed his fist against the rooftop, feeling broken apart, feeling like a shell, and he let out another cry because it was the only way to get some of this _damned_ pressure out of his lungs. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to move on from this, didn't know when this muddled confusion would end. He didn't even realize there was someone else there with him until he felt a rough, calloused hand press down between his shoulder blades.

The touch was grounding, but what truly soothed Credence was the power beneath his fingertips. He peered up through glossy eyes, trying to see who had come to his rescue, and met the blank white eyes of a man he didn't know and yet felt familiarized with.

“Shh, Credence...” He whispered in a soothing voice, rubbing circles against his spine, pushing more power into his body until the crushing pressure lifted from his chest, “There we go... That's better, isn't it?”

Still teary-eyed and messy, Credence nodded. The man smiled at him and pulled the boy into a one-armed hug, pressing cheek against cheek and holding the back of Credence's head, “It was wrong of me to make you wait. Come home with me.”

“I-I can't...” Credence whispered in a shaking voice, but the man only tutted in response.

“You can, Credence... There's nothing left for you here,” He cooed, stroking his hair, “Let me have you for the day. Only for today. And then you can return here and suffer these fools again if you so wish.”

“But...” Credence gasped, and the power filling him began to twist within, burrowing into his veins and his muscles, beating in time with his heart, squeezing between gyri and picking apart his mind. It all took only a second before Credence began to nod, and then another to whisk him away from the rooftop, unbeknownst to anyone else.

\--------------------

By the time lunch came around, Newt thought he was going to go crazy with anxiety. And to make matters worse, his power as Animagus was slipping. He either needed to find Credence within the next five minutes or get out of the school before he transformed back into a human.

He hated giving up, he truly did, but he was terrified about being spotted amongst the students at Ilvermorny even more, and with a heavy heart, Newt ran for the exit.

However, he was but a little brown mouse in a sea of heavy-footed students, and he found out first hand how terrifying it was to be in a stampede. As students headed for the canteen, Newt had to dodge shoes or else he would be crushed. And how terrible would that be? The fantastic Animagus dying under the heel of some everyday student.

He slid under one boot, hopped over someone's converse, and slid out of the way of a kitten heel before a loud scream made the whole hall freeze. Newt looked up, meeting the eye of a fear-stricken Freshman, and tucked his ears back.

“Mouse! It's a mouse!” She screeched, stumbling backwards in a panic. The student closest to Newt looked down, gasped, and practically punted Newt away.

The second Newt landed with a squeak, the hallway burst into a cacophony of noise. Panicked students screamed and ran, others laughed and shoved Newt around with the toe of their shoes, and a few others yet offered to kill him. Newt thought this would be it, thought he might actually die in this bloody school, and he cowered as a student lifted their foot to stomp on him like a bug. He even dared to cover his eyes with his little paws, not wanting to watch his impending doom, and so he didn't even know he was saved until he was being tipped upside-down, falling only a short way before he hit the bottom of a ceramic cup.

“That's enough now, children!” A familiar voice soothed, “Hurry on now to the cafeteria! I'll take care of this little fella.”

Newt peeked up, then flinched when he was suddenly being moved. Peeking over the lip of the cup, Newt watched as the exit to the school came closer and closer. He squeaked in clear delight, reaching a paw out for the open doors, and then whined when his captor turned down a hall instead and vanished in a nearby room.

He exploded into a series of angry squeaks until he was dumped out on a wooden table, making him tumble around and flop dizzily. He heard the room door close, shutting out the noise of the students outside, leaving Newt and his savior alone.

“Now what in Heaven's sake do you think you're doing, young man?” The woman—Ms. Goldstein, Newt realized—questioned with an obviously angry expression, although her gentle voice did little to make Newt feel guilty. Although, he had to stare up at Ms. Goldstein in surprise. How did she know she was talking to--

Newt gasped, his Miraculous chiming it's final warning, and a second later he was all but thrown out of his form and back into his unmasked self. He was practically dropped back onto the desk, halfway hanging off of it with his newfound largeness, and Ms. Goldstein at least had the mind to look surprised.

Newt opened his mouth to explain, although he had no clue where to even start. “Ms. Goldstein!” He blurted, “I-I.... erm.... I can explain!”

Still baffled, Ms. Goldstein burst out with a huffy, “You bet your bottom you'll explain! What are you doing here, Newton? You could have exposed yourself to half of Ilvermorny like this!”

“I know it's hard to believe, but I'm--” Newt did a double-take, then blurted, “Wait, what?”

“Do you have any idea what Percival or Madam would have done to me had you de-transformed during the lunch break? All of Manhattan would have known _you_ were Animagus by the end of the day!”

“H-how did--?” Newt began to ask, but Ms. Goldstein was already pulling him off of her desk and straightening out his clothes, scowling as best as she could at him.

“Oh dear, what do I do? Perhaps I should run and get Percival, he'll know how to straighten this out...” She muttered to herself, frazzled. Newt blinked, then immediately began to agree.

“Yes, go get Mr. Graves! Quickly! I—I need to tell him about O-Obscurus!” He rushed out, but Ms. Goldstein only gave him a panicked look.

“Obscurus? Is he hurt? What happened?” She asked, and Newt had to push her towards the door.

“Go get Graves first! Please, we need to hurry!”

Huffing, Ms. Goldstein decided to listen. She vanished from the room and Newt was left to pace and gather his thoughts, planning out the best way to put his words together, the best way to explain the issue. It both felt like mere moments and long hours before Ms. Goldstein and Percival entered the room, and the moment he saw the panic in Percival's eyes, all of his monologuing flew out the window.

“Mr. Graves, I'm so sorry, I-I don't know why I did it—Oh, damn it all...” Newt cursed, feeling fresh tears burst to life in his eyes, his frustration and stress of the day overwhelming him, “Look, we found Grindelwald at that place you told us about and Credence was _lying_ to me so I made him drink Veritaserum so he would just tell me the truth but it _backfired_ and he just—he ran off somewhere and I thought he would be here, but I can't find him! I don't know what to do, I don't know where he went! Please, Mr. Graves, you have to help me find him!”

He was in such a rush that he didn't hear Ms. Goldstein's soft whisper of, “Credence?” while she peered up at Percival. All that mattered was that Percival went from worried to horrified to angry to determined all in the span of three seconds.

“Queenie, cover my classes,” Percival demanded, straightening out his cuffs before he transformed into The Director, soulless black eyes glaring down at Newt, “Pull it together and get out there! Report back to me as soon as Pickett is back in action.”

“Oh, here,” Queenie suddenly chimed in, digging through her desk drawer and pulling out a stick of raw sugarcane, which she handed off to the frayed Newt. “Pickett absolutely loves these. It'll get him back in shape before you know it.”

Newt blinked down at the gift, then up at Queenie, just about to ask how she knew about Pickett, but The Director was grabbing him by the back of his jacket and pulling him out of the room before he could get a word out.

“Go! Quickly!” He spat out, shoving Newt towards the exit before he vanished himself. Newt gulped, forcing back more angry tears, then handed off the sugarcane to Pickett, currently residing ins his coat pocket, before he dashed for the front entrance, ignoring the few lingering students in his way.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment! Your comments fuel this horrible AU!


End file.
